


His

by wishicouldunreadthat



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2018-12-06 23:46:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 52
Words: 218,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11611467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wishicouldunreadthat/pseuds/wishicouldunreadthat
Summary: One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)





	1. Chapter 1

**WN: (specific to each chapter) captor/hostage, tying up, mentions of violence/gore, mentions of almost non-con/conflicting sexual scenes, angst, strong language**

 

_“Aren’t you ever scared,” I asked curiously to the image on my screen, “That I could be some psycho? Don’t get me wrong - I’m not trying to say I am, it’s just… You seemed to trust me right from the start. Aren’t you worried at all?”_

_The brown-haired boy smiled on my screen, completely relaxed, without a worry in his expression. “Of course not. Why should I be scared of you? You’re the squishiest human alive.” I let out a laugh. “There’s no way you could hurt anything, especially me.”_

_“Oh? And why are you so special?”_

_Dan leaned forward, closer to my screen, and raised his eyebrows. “Don’t act like you don’t know. You’ve never spoken to anyone but me, probably in real life too - ”_

_I scoffed. “Rude.” But I was still smiling._

_“ - so I must mean something to you,” he deduced, with that typical confident half-smile of his._

 

I never responded to that. The conversation was weeks ago, so I doubt he still remembers it. Besides, we talk so much on Skype anyway, how could he remember such a specific few seconds? Well. I can. But that’s only because I’m not sure how I feel about it. There’s this discomfort with how that moment went. I never answered him. Does he think I don’t care about him, is that what I’m worried about?

No. It’s more than that. I didn’t know what he meant to me then. And I still don’t now. That’s the issue.

These are the thoughts I wake up to this morning, groaning and stirring inside my covers. God - am I usually this exhausted? I can’t get up like this, not if I want to be productive. I lift my head like it weighs a ton. God, it’s really pounding. I flop it back down against the pillow, deciding that a bit more sleep might be the way today.

CRASH.

My eyes shoot open at the sound. What the hell? Was that from downstairs?

“Well, shit.”

My heart leaps up to my throat. I’m not alone. Oh god, there’s an intruder!

I try to jump up but my legs slip from under me. My blood runs cold. I look down at my arms.

Rope?

I wriggle my legs. They’ve been bound together.

Oh, shit. They already know I’m up here. They’ve already got me.

Footsteps sound on the stairs outside my door, their tread soft and quiet like someone who’s scared of waking the sleeping. I try to steady my breathing. It can’t be too bad a situation, right? If they wanted me dead, I wouldn’t still be here. They must want me alive.

But then again, if they’ve tied me up, I don’t think their plans are really in my favour.

The door creaks open and I pull my covers tightly over my body, as if that might protect me. A person steps around the corner holding what looks like a bowl, and once their eyes settle on me a wide grin stretches across their face. It takes a moment for me to register, in my shock, exactly who it is.

“Dan?” I call out, quickly shutting my mouth in instant regret. What the hell is he doing here?

“Good morning!” he sings as he places the bowl on my desk. “How are you? Did you have a nice long sleep?”

I keep silent, staring at him unfathomably.

He walks over and perches on my bed with me, leaning in close and evoking an urge inside me to move back. “You’re not scared of me, are you?” Once my body seems to thaw I shake my head slowly. Dan smiles down at me. “That’s good! There’s no reason for you to get worried. I’m not going to hurt you.” He reaches his hand towards me and ruffles my hair like a child, which only confuses me even more.

Ah, but then it clicks. He’s not the only one. Whoever’s captured me, they used Dan to get close to me. He can be as weird as he likes, but he can’t do anything, because he’s not the important one.

“Dan…” I mutter quietly, causing him to tilt his head in acknowledgement. “Why am I still in my house?” Ah, that makes him frown. “It’s just… wouldn’t a kidnapper take their hostage somewhere else?”

Then he surprises me even more - he giggles. “Oh, silly. I’m only eighteen. I can’t drive to and from Manchester in a day! And you know my parents are at home. It’s so convenient that you told me your parents don’t live here anymore. And, for the record, I’m not a kidnapper. You’re not my hostage, you’re my friend.”

Huh? I stare at him strangely. Is there not… Surely he’s not the only one. He’s just… just a kid. No, I’m thinking crazy.

“Let’s take a look at this, okay?” he mumbles, tilting my head to the side and brushing my hair back off my ear with his other hand. His fingers run over my scalp, suddenly reaching a large bruise and causing pain to shoot through my skull. I bite my lip to contain any noises. “Hmm… it hasn’t healed much yet. But it’s looking a lot better than yesterday. At least it stopped bleeding, at last!” My eyes go wide. “Sorry about this, Phil. I never wanted to cause you any pain, but you threatened to call the police on me. It was funny, actually. You fell asleep straight away.”

I stare at him worriedly. This isn’t how I imagined Dan to act in person. It’s too… weird. It doesn’t make sense. It isn’t him, it isn’t the Dan I know.

But then, surely this is the real Dan. The Dan I knew was just a cover. He was trying to get close. And now he has me, he can really unleash himself. Oh god - I cringe at the thought. Being his. Being his hostage.

He takes my head in both his hands, forcing me to look at him, and shit - I can see it now, the whole reason he’s doing this. That adoration in his eyes shines blindingly. How have I never noticed it before?

“I’m so happy you’re awake,” Dan mutters softly. He’s staring at my mouth and my cheeks flush pink. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long.”

My eyes go wide. He leans towards me but I turn my head away, letting out a fearful squeak. My heart’s beating so fast. This is what I’m here for?! To be his toy? I can't… oh god, I can’t handle that.

But then again, wouldn’t that be better, in a way? He takes my jaw lightly in one hand and turns my head back to him. Wouldn’t I rather this to someone who hates me, and hurts me, and kills me? He leans in close, quickly shortening the gap between us. I don’t move away.

But they aren’t mutually exclusive. I’m being stupid to think like that. He can hurt me - I’ve got a scabbed bruise on my head to prove it. Then what’s his real plan with me? What’s going to happen, in the end, if everything goes his way?

I pull back, letting out a helpless cry of protest, and Dan moves away. He stares at me, his glare sharp and scrutinising, which only worries me more. How far will he dare go? Does it matter to him how I feel about this? Will it matter at all if I struggle?

He sits himself back and lets out a soft sigh. “Ah. I see. We’re not ready for that yet.” Perhaps that’s supposed to comfort me, but all I really hear is the word ‘yet’ called so confidently. Dan stands up and walks away from the bed, letting me sigh out in relief for the moment. “But don’t you worry - we’ll get there. I don’t have to go back until Sunday, so we have ages to play with.” That makes my heart drop to my stomach. If he’s this forward just minutes after I’ve woken up, what are the next few days going to hold for me? “This is where you’re important, Phil - the choices you’re about to make. There are two outcomes to this week…” He’s playing with that bowl he brought up, but I still can’t see what it really is. “Either you’re considerate, and you let me love you. Or you’re difficult. Now, let’s not think about that part too much, because hopefully it won’t come to that. But let me tell you: when Sunday comes and I have to leave, you’re staying here. Whether that’s in chains or contentment is up to you.”

With nothing to say, I just gulp. This isn’t the Dan I knew at all. And yet, this is the only one I’ll ever know.

He turns back around and leans against the desk, glaring at me with that confident smile of his. He’s left the bowl alone again. Dan tilts his head to the side and pulls a pouty face. “What? Don’t you have anything to say?” I just stare at him. Why would I say anything? What is he expecting of me right now? Had he imagined this scene over and over in his head, with countless different reactions on my part? Perhaps it’s safe to assume that I never made it out of any of those scenarios.

I take a deep breath. Fine. If it’s conversation you want, I’ll oblige.

“How long,” I breathe out nervously, more nervously that I’d anticipated, “have you been planning this?”

Dan folds his arms, his smug smile widening across his whole face. “Oh, a while. From your first video I fell in love with you. I just had to hope that someday you’d message me back. And once you did, and so eagerly too, I knew I had you.” Fuck, what a psycho. “After that, it was just a case of meeting you. I hoped you would want to organise a meet-up, but I grew impatient. You did, however, give me enough clues to track you down to this street, then, well, I already knew the view outside and inside of that window.” He scoffs mockingly. “Honestly, you were far too easy. You were practically begging me to find you.”

I hold back a growl in annoyance. What cheek this kid has! “Have you done this before?”

At that, he barks out a laugh. “Oh dear. Oh, I see now. You think I’m some sort of serial killer, don’t you? That I stalk and kill people I like. But don’t worry: you’re the first. In fact, such a thought never crossed my mind until I saw your first video.”

“But - but why a kidnapping? Didn’t you think I might like you eventually?” Dan, with a smile, shakes his head. “Well why not?”

“When I watched your videos, I was certain you were straight,” Dan calls back - was that a hint of sadness in his voice? No. It couldn’t be. He’s too collected right now for that.

“But I told you - ”

He holds a hand up to stop me, and to my surprise I actually shut up. “I know you told me, many times actually. And now you’re wondering why I would still choose such an extreme method, when there was a chance of actually winning your affections?” This time, I nod my head in confirmation - why not? He got it right. Dan laughs quietly and drops his head to his chest, and the confidence I had previously built up between us diminishes very quickly. “Oh, Phil. I simply wanted to. I couldn’t give up the dream of tying you up like this.” He takes a step forward and raises his head sharply, his glare far stronger than it was before. This isn’t admiration I’m seeing anymore - this is pure psychoticism. “But now I know, so long as I work this right, you can actually fall for me. And wouldn’t that be fun!”

He throws his head back and barks out a howling sort of laugh, and I cower from him as best as I can.

Oh. And now I realise.

“I must mean something to you.”

I thought that was the part that made me so awkward. But that wasn’t it at all.

“You seemed to trust me right from the start. Aren’t you worried at all?”

It was him. There was always something strange about Dan and I never quite realised it. And oh, look where it got me: right into his scheming little hands.

“I mean, look at you,” he grins, taking a step towards me. A feeling of exposure overwhelms me and I pull my knees up, a blush reaching my cheeks. At that, he huffs, and throws himself forward to grab my knee and shove my legs back down, leaning right down to my face. “How could I resist you?” I feel my body trembling madly beneath him, sweat forming anywhere he might look. Dan’s far too close. He seizes my chin in his hand, and oh god - I can’t move away this time. “Isn’t this exciting! Think of all the fun we’ll have, Phil! Stop being so scared!” My head is thrown to the side, and whilst I can’t see for the moment I feel Dan climb on top of me - my heart races like a little frightened bird in my ribcage. He grabs my jaw again and pulls me forwards, intentions obviously clear -

“N-no!” I cry, shoving my hands desperately against his chest. He huffs like an animal, frustrated with me, and he grabs my wrists and holds them down against my stomach. “Stop it! I have neighbours, I-I’ll scream!”

“Shut up,” Dan growls, squeezing my jaw until his fingers hit bone. “You’re not being considerate. It wouldn’t hurt if you stopped complaining.”

I shake my head around vigorously, attempting to find some sort of escape. “Well stop being so forceful and maybe I’d shut up!”

And shit - I’m an idiot. Because after that, Dan’s grip falls away. “Prove it,” he challenges me, glaring down with anger burning in his eyes. “Prove that I can trust your word.” He takes my wrists and throws my hands over his head, staring down at me expectantly. I just stare back. “Go on then. I’m completely passive.”

I gulp, my arms trembling against his shoulders. “I… Do you expect me - ”

“Yes, you idiot. You’re trying my patience.”

My breath wavers nervously as I try to bring him closer. “I said I’d shut up. I never said I wanted this.” Dan just sighs and flashes me an impatient look. But my arms still tremble… I turn away. “Can’t we just do something else?”

The boy huffs and hums some curse under his breath as he unhooks himself from my arms, holding them in the air by the wrists as he rips away the covers. His hand reaches for my chest and one by one his fingers snap the buttons of my shirt apart. My eyes widen in worry of what he’s planning and as I squeal out in protest he clams a hand over my mouth, my arms falling onto my bare stomach, and he shoots me a warning glance. So I keep quiet this time as his hand reaches for my belt. Sweat is building fast across my forehead, and probably more exposed places too, as Dan’s fingers undress me quickly - they pull the belt away, snap off the button, force down the zip, and with a few firm tugs he pulls the material off my thighs.

Then, something that definitely surprises me, Dan unties the rope around my legs. Of course, he’s not letting me go anywhere, holding each one down as he strips the other, but… I don’t know. I wasn’t expecting these to ever come off.

Once my trousers are off, his hands reach up to my crotch again - I squeal and close my thigh over myself. That action elicits a growl from Dan’s young mouth and he lays a firm hand on the top of my thigh, having none of it.

“No!” I cry out in panic. “Please, I-I’ll do anything.”

He raises an eyebrow, scoffing at my efforts. “Oh, really? You couldn’t even kiss me.”

Now, at this moment, I really hate myself. I clench my trembling fingers for a moment, then I reach them out, clutch Dan’s shirt collar, and with one wavering breath I press our mouths together. My eyes kept squeezing tightly shut, and I keep begging them not to cry. I sink into myself shamefully. I gave in. I’ve let him win already. Shit - I’m too weak.

Dan pulls away and stares at me for a moment, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking about me. But then a wide grin stretches across his face - it isn’t nice, it’s too happy. “Good boy,” he calls, making me cringe. “You’re getting the hang of this.” I lower my head away from his sight.

He stands himself up from the bed and slides his arms under my legs and shoulders, sweeping me up into his arms. “Alright then, lover boy. If you want to do something else, we should get you ready.” He carries me to the door, grunting with the effort because he’s definitely not very strong, and swings it open.

“What do you mean? Where are we going?” I ask him nervously. He doesn’t say anything, so I grab onto his shirt and tug. “Dan, please.”

I realise that smile never leaves his lips. He must like it when I act like this. I shiver at the thought. “To the bathroom, silly. You need a wash.”

In a way, that relieves me. It means he hasn’t stripped me almost naked for… other things.

He pushes open the bathroom door and drops me onto the floor, causing my butt to slam against the unsympathetic tiles beneath us. A hiss leaves my mouth at the impact, the cold numbing my skin. I lift my head to look at Dan, who’s perched himself on the seat of the toilet, leaning over his legs and staring down at me curiously. That strange sort of adoring spark returns in his eyes, and as his gaze falls down my body I cringe and look away. But he reaches a hand to my chin and forces me to look back up at him.

“Hmm…” he sighs. “Why don’t you want me looking at you, huh? Don’t think you’re pretty enough?” Ugh, what a word. He leans even further forward. “Don’t worry. I’ve got plans for that. By the time I’m done, you won’t be so self-conscious around me.”

Still holding my chin in his grasp, Dan kneels himself down in front of me, and because of his grip I can’t move away from him. “I just realised something. You probably don’t know what all this is, do you?” I just stare at him. “Don’t you wonder what I want from you? What I’m risking so much for?” Surprising myself, I nod my head as best as I can in his hold. That makes Dan’s face brighten. “It’s because I’m your biggest fan. No one else has gotten this far. No one else cares about you as much as me.” He pulls my head closer, and I bite down a squeak. “They don’t deserve you. But I’ve worked so hard - still, I’m giving up so much for you! You know, I have to work a lot, back home, but I’m dedicating all my free time to you. Wouldn’t you call that commitment?” I don’t respond, so he manipulates my head himself, making me nod hugely, and grinning in his own personal amusement.

He falls silent then, his expression softening. He raises his other hand to my face and I flinch, anxious - then his fingers gently brush along my cheek. On his face grows a smile. “You’re so pretty,” he mutters calmly. He brushes my hair back softly and, as his fingers wrap around the back of my neck, the hand at my chin falls away.

“That doesn’t look comfortable…” he pouts, frowning at the way my legs are sprawled out to my side. He leans over and lightly taps my ankle with his finger. “Sit up.” I comply. I guess, whenever he’s focused on me, I’m too scared to move. When did that start? I cross my legs tightly and gaze back up at him, as if asking for approval. Dammit, Phil, you weirdo. Dan smiles appreciatively at me, and without a second’s hesitation, brings his mouth against mine.

My heart jumps in my chest. He’s so damn forward! But this kiss surprises me. After his approach to me up til now, I never thought he’d kiss me so softly. He sighs quietly and seems to fall into the kiss. I flinch involuntarily as his fingers brush against my side, carefully sliding round to my back, and at that action I find my body leaning forward closer to his. I can’t explain it, I don’t understand. The light tips of his fingers run up along my spine and I bend away, shivering. I forgot how exposed my body is now. My mouth lets escape a little squeak, hardly a noise at all really, at the sensitivity of my skin. And, even more to my shock, Dan seems to react with a small grunt of his own, pushing down on my neck and encouraging me closer. I don’t try to pull away this time. I can’t say why. It just… I shouldn’t upset him unless I really can’t stand it.

But what does that mean, Phil? Does bearable mean you like it?

I shut my eyes to block out the thought.

No, wait. I shouldn’t feel guilty. I can hate it or I can like it, so what? Hating it doesn’t make me a good person. Liking it doesn’t make me a freak. Come to think of it, wouldn’t enjoying it make it easier to cope? And after all, isn’t that what Dan wants? When I’ve objected, he’s gotten mad. If I can find more scenarios that I’m comfortable with, he won’t be so rough with me. And that’s a good thing. It’s not like anyone on the outside can see this, anyway, so why should I worry about judgement?

I reach my hands forward and clutch Dan’s shirt between my fingers, making myself aware of the cordage that still holds my wrists together. I feel his lips part slightly and I don’t object, letting his tongue inside. The sensation makes me shiver - or maybe it’s the chill of the room.

Suddenly Dan pulls back, quite sharply too, panting like he’s out of breath. I stare up at him in confusion. “Fuck…” he gasps out. I look down - he’s reaching his hand between his legs and presses his fist against the fresh bulge of his crotch. My eyes widen at the sight. Dan looks back at me and smiles proudly, letting out a breathy laugh. “I didn’t think… I knew you affected me before, but this… shit. It’s much stronger when you’re actually here.” He grasps my neck tightly, twitching like he’s not sure what he’s going to do. Then his hand falls away from his crotch. “No…” he chokes out, looking to me and smiling again. “It’ll be more fun together. Don’t you agree?”

I don’t reply. How can I?

My cheeks burn red and I look away from him. So that’s how he sees me. It’s not just admiration. I’m an object.

Regret runs through my blood like a chilling poison. I feel sick.

I was wrong. The happier I am with him, the further he’ll go. And the further he goes, he further he falls. The further he falls, the more he loses himself. And when he loses himself, he won’t care about me anymore.

So what am I supposed to do?

I clench my fingers into fists, no longer holding his shirt. Goddammit. I fell for it, his trick. I let him win me over. Goddammit, it’s so easy for him! What am I supposed to do?!

“Hey.”

Dan swipes his thumb to my chin and lifts my head up, as he gazes down at me curiously. “You’re not happy. Did I say something?” His hand closes round my bound fists. “What’s this about?” His eyes drop down my body again. “You’re not hard, so that’s not it.” My eyes widen and I sharply bring my hands down to cover myself. That makes him laugh. Dan brings his hand back to mine, squeezing slightly, and he leans in close. “Don’t get used to doing that, by the way. I won’t let you be so self-conscious.” At those words, I can’t help but gulp. He really does see me that way.

He stands himself up, after what feels like an eternity of sitting on this floor, and makes his way to the door. “Get yourself in.” He gestures to the shower. “Since you’re so shy about it, you can keep your boxers on. But just this once, okay?”

Dan shoots me a playful smile, and then he’s gone from the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: sexual scenes (conflicting consensual implications), strong language, drugging, mentions of blood**

Relieved at the solitude at last, I take a moment to catch my breath. I bring a hand to my throat and inhale deeply. Feels like I haven’t been breathing for the last… god knows how long it’s been. I release a long breath out. This is insane. How did I get into this?

Is it my fault?

No. Not really. It’s not like I asked for this.

But then again, what if I did, the way he sees it? That’s what he said wasn’t it?

Shouldn’t I have spotted something, something that warned me about Dan?

But how? What possible clue could there have been? It’s not like I was expecting it. He was just a simple lonely teenager. He was just like me. What reason was there to suspect him?

With trembling legs, I push myself up, and wobble over to the shower. I wonder if he plans on putting the rope back on my legs. I scoff. Most likely. He doesn’t trust me.

I step inside and press my bare back against the freezing cold wall that faces the door. Then I glance down at myself, the body that Dan had taken and fixed up for himself, that stands there in only Pokémon boxers and cordage round the wrists. My face scrunches up at the sight. I don’t understand. How does someone actually find me attractive? I mean, I would understand if Dan had never known anyone else. But he’s seen band members and actors and loads of hot people. He’s certainly not blind. Maybe he’s just completely insane. Maybe it’s only because I’m easy prey.

I stare at the door, wondering what Dan’s plans are for me now. I glance back at my restraints. There are two outcomes: submission or entrapment. That’s what he said, wasn’t it? That means I’m stuck here either way. No matter what I do, Dan will never give me up. I’ll be his forever.

There’s something he doesn’t seem to have realised. He said the outcome depends on the choices I make. Either I choose to love him, or I choose to struggle. But, in reality, my choices don’t mean a thing. I can’t make myself love him. I can’t stop myself hating him. He’s not blind and that’s the problem: if I don’t love him, he’s sure to notice, and no matter what he’ll brand me bad. But he’s also clever: even if I hate him, there’s still a chance that he’ll twist me into loving him.

If the choice doesn’t matter, even so, I can still make one. I can decide what outcome I really want.

So, here’s the question:

To save myself from pain, do I really want Dan to make me love him?

The room is silent. I stare at the door.

Yes. That’s my choice.

But, in the end, the choice is his.

The door swings open and Dan’s head pops round timidly, a little curious expression on his face, and upon seeing me his eyes light up.

“Ah! Now I’m impressed!” He walks into the room and closes the door behind him. “And there I was thinking you would take this opportunity to try and run. I was gone for ages, wasn’t I? You’ll have to forgive me.” He walks up to me, leaning one hand against the shower door, the other running through my hair.

I shiver at his touch. I realise, seeing him in front of me now, having him so close, that wanting to love him is harder than it sounds.

“Maybe I was wrong,” he mumbles. “Maybe I can trust you.”

It’s too hard to explain. It’s not that I like him. Honestly, he still scares me. And if I could see a way out of this, of course I’d rather be without him. But I don’t have that choice. If I’m going to be stuck with him forever, I’d rather he make me love him.

I almost laugh to myself. Listen to me: talking about love like it’s just that easy.

“Sit,” Dan commands, moving a hand to my shoulder and pushing me down. I comply straight away, crossing my legs on shower floor. “I’m guessing you want to get these boxers wet, is that right? Feel free to take them off.” I cover myself with my bound hands, giving him his answer. “Fair enough. But this shirt - that’s too nice to throw away.” Dan kneels down in front of me and pulls off my wrist restraints, leaving me completely untied. It makes me feel uneasy, this almost freedom. It’s easier when they’re on.

Huh, now that’s strange.

One of his hands grabs my ankles, pulls my legs out from me slightly, and ties the rope around them instead. Then he pulls off the rest of my shirt and throws it over to the sink.

Dan stands up, and, with a strangely sheepish look on his face, pulls off his shirt. I stare up at him curiously. “Ah. As much as I hate it, I better not get my clothes wet either.” His trousers come off soon after. I keep my head down as he takes his socks off too. I don’t know what he wants of me yet - should I like the way he looks?

Should I be basing my behaviours on what Dan wants from me? And how come I want to please him so badly?

The shower door slides shut loudly, making me jump and shoot my head up to Dan. He’s holding the shower head, facing it to the floor, with a little smile on his face. He switches it on and the water comes gushing out, freezing cold to start, but after a while it begins to warm up, and then Dan leads it over my body. I close my eyes tightly as the water hits my skin and streams down my body. He covers my head and back and shoulders and front and legs with ease, then locks the shower head into the wall for later, kneels down in front of me and grabs my bottle of soap. I can’t help but watch him nervously, the way he works the soap into suds, knowing that his hands are going to be on my body. But then I think: how much has he touched me already? A ghosting touch of his fingers up my spine causes me to shiver, and the ghost of his lips against my own makes my breath hitch. He’s already done so much. There aren’t many more lines for him to cross. And if it’s hardly been an hour, how much more is likely to happen in the next five days?

Dan’s fingers press against my collar and I try not to move away from his touch. He rubs in little circles along my skin, being firm but also very careful with me. It’s unsettling when he does that. When his hands work down to the ends of my fingers I’m reminded of how quickly he reduced me to this weak thing. He’s just a kid, and yet he has me, bound and unclothed under his hands, and I’m hardly doing anything to object. Do I secretly not want to leave him? No, that’s not it. What would be the point? I don’t know how to escape, so why would I try when most likely he’ll catch me? Why not sugarcoat him until I can find the right time? I can tell myself that, but I can’t stop myself from wondering if I’m secretly reluctant to leave.

I stare up at him curiously, those focused eyes as he scrubs my neck, and I wonder what he’s thinking. Why did he decide to wash me? If he thinks I’m disgusting, why not make me wash myself? Come on, Phil, you’re being thick! He’s obsessed with you! You should have realised how badly he wants his hands on you. Hadn’t you figured that out already? You protested when he got close last time. The shower is just the excuse he came up with so you would let him this time round.

I cringe and look away from him, trying to ignore his wandering hands. He won again. He dragged me into his grasp with his little mind games. And the worst part is that they’re not even complex. I’m just stupid, aren’t I? There’s no way I could make a successful escape when Dan is this much smarter than me. Honestly, the way things are going, I’m going to be all his very soon. Now isn’t that a terrifying thought.

Dan’s hands finish their work of my stomach and slip down to my thighs, carefully pushing them an inch further apart, and as he touches the sensitive inner flesh I let out a helpless gasp, feeling tears well in my eyes. It’s not fair. I’m supposed to be a strong and independent adult, but I’m stuck under the hands of this teenager. Fuck, I’m his toy. That’s all I’ll ever be anymore.

It takes me a while to realise how long he’s spending on my thighs. He hasn’t even reached my calves yet. Dan isn’t even washing me anymore - he’s just running his fingers lightly along my skin. And my breath keeps catching with every inward stroke. I’m not used to someone else touching me like this. It’s too soft, too intimate, too dangerously close. Worriedly, I look down to watch his hands, and I’m met with a horrid confirmation that I actually enjoy Dan’s touch. I cringe and shut my eyes tightly. No. It’s not fair. He can’t affect me like this. I won't… It’s not something I can help.

One of his hands, his right one probably, reaches up to my neck, brushes away the bubbles from the circumference of my throat, then his fingers curl securely around the right side. I glance up, aware of how embarrassingly red my face has turned, to see Dan smiling proudly.

He leans forward and presses his lips to my neck, causing me to cry out at the feeling. I’m too sensitive. “Stop,” I try to gasp out, moving my hands up his back and wrapping tightly round his torso. He ignores me though, placing kisses along my sensitive skin, which makes me dig my fingers into his shoulder blade. “Stop it, I’m - ”

“Don’t be silly,” he laughs, his mouth still at my throat. “You don’t really want me to stop, do you?”

I feel his left hand run over the edge of my boxers, reaching desperately close, so with tears in my eyes I slump against him. “No…”

His left sweeps over the front of my underwear and I squeal, closing my hand tightly round the back of Dan’s neck. He’s kneeling inside the ring of my legs, leaning back on my feet which keeps them pinned down. My head falls into his shoulder and I use his body to muffle the noises I make. It’s probably shameful, letting him touch me like this, but when he’s worked me up so well, and he kisses me like this, and sucks on my skin so delicately, and when his fingers can trace my erection so perfectly, I can’t help but like the feeling. It’s just too good, he’s too good. I let my hips rock up to his hand, desperate for a little more. I need this release. Fuck, no one’s ever touched me like this. No one’s ever done anything he’s done for me.

I mutter curses into the crook of his neck, my fingers denting his flesh. I’m shaking and I can barely breath. It’s not fair. I haven’t done anything to deserve such good treatment. It’s quick to overwhelm me. His name helplessly falls from my lips as he sends me over the edge, choking on words of gratitude for his generosity. I finally fall limp against him, my arms hanging over his back. Breathless pants leave my mouth and hit Dan’s neck.

He lets out a quiet laugh at the state of me. “Was that good?” he asks. I nod my head slowly without thinking. I don’t know what to do with myself. “I thought so. You’re such a good boy for me, aren’t you? Could AmazingPhil be a slut?” He chuckles to himself and grabs the shower head for a final time, washing me down, whilst I still struggle to catch my breath. “That’s okay. I’m a slut for you, too, so it works out quite well.”

I close my mouth and look down between us, realising that Dan is just about sporting something in his half-wet boxers. I frown slightly. Earlier, just kissing me was enough to make him hard. In fact, he could hardly contain himself. So what happened this time?

Oh. He was out of the room for so long. Even at his age, he couldn’t get hard again so soon after.

A rock of guilt hits my stomach. The realisation hits me. I was the only one of us to be in that state just now. So he couldn’t have been distracted by his own needs - he watched me the whole time. My whole body shivers, the humiliating exposure of that scene making me cringe more than I have before. No, it’s not fair. It’s taken him hardly an hour to get me to do that, and worst of all,  _I actually liked it._  My hands tremble behind his back. He’s really done it. He got me. If not for a brief moment.

My heartbeat wavers in fear, because Dan could actually do it - make a permanent slave of me. And that concept terrifies me more than it did before.

He spends another minute washing my hair, but the air has turned tense and there’s no way he won’t pick up on it. The affection that he touches my hair with only worsens my feeling, and I feel tears forming in my eyes again. I try to keep quiet so that Dan might not notice, but even if I could hold in my tears and any sounds, my body is still shaking - my hands being the worst.

The stream is finally switched off and without a moment’s delay Dan reaches over his shoulders, grabs my wrists and holds my arms out by my head. “Look at me,” he commands, so I do. But my upset is too clear, and once his face takes on a look of concern, I can’t stop the tears from falling. “What’s this for? I thought you were happy. Why are you crying?”

I shake my head in refusal. What am I supposed to say? Would he forgive me if I don’t immediately want to love him? Because that’s the assumption he’s made even before we met - that I’d want to be his. Really, I never had a choice in this relationship with him, did I?

“Phil,” he calls sternly. His glare isn’t happy. “Let me inside your head. I want to help.”

That almost makes me snap. That’s bullcrap that he wants to help me. He wants to fuck me up psychologically, that’s his real goal. Nothing romantic about it.

I want to swear at him. I want to tell him how fucked up he is. I want to demand that he lets me go.

But I can’t. The minute that I do, that I give in to such an urge, is the minute that I gain another injury by his hand. What’s the point in risking it?

“It’s nothing,” I reply, my voice not managing anything above a whisper. I sniffle nervously.

But Dan frowns, unconvinced. “I’m not stupid. You don’t cry for nothing. Don’t ever lie to me, Phil. That would be a bad habit, and I can’t stand bad habits.” I nod in acknowledgement, feeling like nothing more than a pet to him. “So tell me what’s wrong.”

I sigh nervously. Oh well. There’s not much point avoiding the truth, is there?

“What do you expect of me right now?” He raises his eyebrows, obviously surprised. “I mean, what do you think I’m feeling about all this? Do you expect me to want to love you, or to already have feelings for you?”

For a moment, Dan just stares at me. Then he barks out a laugh. “But you already do! I already meant something to you way before I came here. I bet, even if I never did this, that we would never be anything less than best friends. You’re not trying to tell me that you don’t see me that way, are you?” I don’t say anything. “Even if that’s what you think, you can’t convince me. You came so quickly just now, just for me.” I visibly cringe at those words. “Now, doesn’t that sound like someone’s attracted to me.”

I slowly shake my head. “No, that’s not… It’s different.” A helpless sigh leaves my mouth. “I’m a virgin,” I admit quietly, a blush rising to my cheeks.

Dan gasps at that, his eyes widening, ecstatic. “Really? Why didn’t you tell me before?” Embarrassed, I simply shrug my shoulders. “Oh, you don’t know how happy that makes me! I can be really special to you, now!”

Suddenly Dan lungs forwards, wrapping his arms round my middle and hugging me tightly, which takes me off guard. I really don’t understand him. He makes me feel sick, all this confusion, all this intimacy and obligation to be on his side.

His arms squeeze my torso and suddenly I’m lifted off the ground, with my legs around his waist, and in surprise I squeal and grasp onto his neck for balance. Dan lets out a laugh at my reaction and carries me back to my bedroom again. Why does he carry me like this? He knows I have working legs, and I’m really too heavy for him. Is he really so desperate to be this close to me all the time?

He drops me onto my back on my bed, but because I’m wrapped round him so tightly I end up dragging him sharply down with me - we both yelp as his face comes dangerously close to me.

“Wow - a bit forward of you, Lester,” Dan mocks with a grin. “But whilst we’re here…” Oh god: I gulp nervously. “Can you free your legs for me? You’re squashing my arms a bit here.” I feel like sighing in relief. But the thought quickly comes to mind of how long he’ll wait before trying something like that again.

I don’t think about it too much, distracting myself by reaching my hands to my ankles and untying the rope that binds them. Once it comes loose I feel my legs drop heavily to either side of Dan’s body, and I bring the rope back to him. But, once he’s pulled his arms free, he just grabs it out of my hand and throws it to the floor - and that surprises me.

“I think it’s time for some food,” Dan declares, standing himself up from my bed. “You woke up quite late, by the way. It’s almost seven o'clock.” Woah, really? I look out to my window: well, the curtains are drawn, but there’s obviously no light coming through. Is it really so late?

Have I lost an entire day?

Oh god, what was Dan doing the whole time? I doubt he would have just slept for a long time - what if I’d woken up?

Shit - how was I out for so long? Did he really hit me that hard?

And here’s a thought: can I not remember what happened yesterday? Apparently he broke in and I flipped out, so he knocked me out. But the last thing I remember…

Ugh, I’m getting a headache. I don’t know what I can remember.

This is bad, this is really bad…

“Phil! Don’t you answer questions?”

I gaze up at him. Am I drifting?

“Wow, you’re a real mess aren’t you?” He steps forward and brings a hand to my cheek, wiping away a moistness that I hadn’t realised was there. “Are you feeling okay?”

I just stare at him. I honestly don’t know. I don’t understand what’s going on anymore. “I think I need to lie down…” I mumble to him.

Dan stares down at me and sighs softly. “I think so too. You’re starting to worry me.” He frowns to emphasise his point. “Look: I’ll make you some soup, and then you can have a rest. Okay?” I nod, almost smiling at him.

He’s quick to leave the room, shutting and locking the door behind him.

Huh. So that’s what he was doing whilst I was asleep. My door never locked from the outside before.

I shuffle myself up the bed and hug my knees tightly to my chest. I don’t understand. That’s as much as I can say, honestly. I don’t understand him, or this situation, or what he wants, or what I’m supposed to do. And worst of all, I no longer understand myself. What do I want? What should I be doing about this?

My head pounds so I bring my hands to it, realising that the injury Dan gave me is throbbing harshly. He’s a real mystery to me. Does he love me? Does he want to hurt me? Or is this some kind of strange disciplinary mechanism he’s trying out on me?

Does he even really love me? Now that’s a good question.

Maybe he doesn’t even understand himself.

I glance over to my desk - where the strange out-of-place looking bowl sits. Dan seemed mesmerised by it earlier.

I’m standing up before I can really think about what I’m doing. I have to know what’s in it, even if it’s nothing special. Something just feels weird about it. There’s no rational explanation I can find for it without knowing what it holds.

I reach my desk and look inside - and the door clicks open. I look sharply at Dan as he walks in, who, upon realising what I’m doing, sighs to himself with a little smile.

“Ah,” he says awkwardly. “I really hoped you wouldn’t do that. Now I have to try and explain myself.”

With wide eyes, I take a step back from him.

Dan sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “Alright. Tell me: what’s in there?”

I swallow nervously. I bet I’m starting to sweat. “It's… it’s blood, isn’t it?” Dan hums in confirmation. “Is that mine?”

He drops his gaze to the floor. “Yeah, it really is. Sorry, but there’s no way to explain it without sounding like a psychopath.” My hands tremble helplessly by my sides. “Honestly, I don’t know why I’ve kept it. I didn’t want to try cleaning it out of the carpet, and you were bleeding so much I couldn’t just ruin a bunch of cloth.” He takes a step towards me, grinning so proudly like he usually does, and I find my body’s frozen before him. I can’t move away. Even if I could, there’s nowhere to go. “I guess it’s like a little part of you I could keep for myself.”

I was still wobbling back away from him when my legs hit my desk chair and I fall, with a squeal, into it, and Dan leans over me, smiling wide. “Y-you… You knocked me out and kept my blood?” I gasp out in shock. Dan just nods his head. “And you think that’s okay?”

At those words, he frowns. “Well, no, obviously not. But you can’t dictate what I can and can’t do.” He pulls something from his pocket, and at the sight of it I sink into myself. “I won’t let you,” he growls down at me. He shoves the cloth into my mouth and wraps it tightly round my head, ignoring my cries of distress and the tears that form again in my eyes. “I’ll tell you this once, Phil: don’t ever argue with me. I told you already, I hate bad habits. Understand?”

Choking back tears, I nod quickly. As a smile forms on his lips, Dan takes my head in his hands and places a kiss to my cheek, being soft like he always is with me. My stomach twists horribly. He’s making me feel sick.

He goes to walk away, but I reach for his arm and tug him back - at that, he turns to me, a look of confusion on his face. “What?” he says.

Nervous of his reaction, I bring my other hand to the cloth and cautiously pull it from my mouth. “I want to ask, just quick…” He hums, letting me talk. “Will you do this again? Take my blood… and keep it…?”

For a moment, Dan doesn’t say anything. Then he leans down, takes the cloth in his hand again and pulls it back between my lips. “Of course not. I was ecstatic at the time. I don’t know what came over me. I’m not that fucked up, Phil.” He practically laughs. “Now, I didn’t think I’d have to say this, but don’t ever move the ties I put on you. They’re there for your own good, okay?” Nodding, I drop my hands from him. “I didn’t even reach the kitchen because you had to go wandering. So soup is going to take a little longer. Get changed and get into bed. I won’t be gone for long.”

With that, he leaves me again, and I can let my tears fall.

Look what he’s reduced me to.

I’m sitting at my own desk, wearing nothing but soaking boxers, still dripping wet from when he washed me, with my mouth bound and tears falling on my cheeks.

I’m the poster child of weakness.

Body trembling, and head kept down, I follow his orders: drying myself off, changing into my pyjamas, and laying down under my covers.

I keep my mind empty as I wait for him to come back.

Dan returns sooner than I expected, smiling appreciatively down to me as he sits, legs crossed, beside me on the bed. “Look at you: so well behaved.” He’s holding a bowl of tomato soup. He dips a spoon into its steaming contents, fills it up, and brings it to my mouth. His other hand pulls down the cloth and without being told I part my lips, closing them round the spoon. I watch Dan’s smile get wider. “I like this. No more questions. No worries. This Phil is a good Phil.”

No more words fall between us while he helps me finish the bowl, and once it’s empty I make myself smile at him in gratitude. Then he sets the bowl to the side.

“Look at you,” Dan murmurs, taking my head in both of his hands. “Can I kiss you?”

I swallow harshly, but despite myself, I slowly nod my head. The smile that the action evokes makes him look like a child, and he quickly brings my head into him to meet our lips. Even so, with this softness, the tears start to fall. Looks like I’ve given up tonight. Honestly, I’m just too tired to object.

He pulls back soon though, obviously not intending for much more. “Have I told you,” he whispers, his expression far happier than I’ve ever seen him before, “that I love you?” I just stare at him. “Maybe you already guessed it. But I want you to be sure. I never want you doubting it: I really love you, Phil Lester.”

He kisses me again, but this time it’s different. He’s not being so cautious. That doesn’t make it any less soft though, that’s not what I mean. He doesn’t seem to be holding back. There’s a passion in his lips that I haven’t felt before. With this, I’m sure I can believe him. Dan truly does love me.

Can I really be a monster that tries to deny him these feelings? I don’t think I can be that cruel. Besides, it’s not like he wants to hurt me. He loves me. That’s all it is. He wants me. I’m sure, with this kiss, that if I really did love him back, I’d never know anything but kindness.

Without thinking, my hands reach up between us and hold onto his neck, holding him close. Without meaning to, I’m kissing him back. I find it sweet. Kissing him is nice. And if we both like it, why not keep doing it?

My head starts to spin and I quickly pull back, moaning in distress. Is the room swaying? Is it tilting? My vision starts to blur. I cry out in confusion and grasp tightly onto Dan’s neck - but he takes my wrists in his hands and holds them against my chest.

“W-what - ” I try, but he pulls the cloth into my mouth again.

He starts to become a silhouette before my eyes. My limbs have gone numb. “We agreed you’d have a rest, Phil, didn’t we?” I cry out in objection, not understanding. Dan’s voice slurs in my head. “Besides - with me, nothing goes unpunished.”

I’m dragged away from him into the depths of sleep.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, tying up, hints of non-con, conflicting sexual scenes (fellatio), violence, mentions of knives**

I wake up, once again, with my head throbbing like a hangover.

I’m still in bed. The covers are pulled over my body up to my shoulders. That’s all normal.

But here’s the catch: I’m not wearing clothes anymore (save for my underwear, thank god), there’s rope around my ankles, rope under my knees, rope around my wrists, a gag in my mouth, and a blindfold over my eyes. It seems that Dan really lost faith in me before.

Even with the restraint, I notice how the sunlight streams through the thin fabric of my blindfold. Is it morning? Surely I didn’t sleep into the evening again.

I try wriggling around, seeing how tight the binds are, but even the smallest movement of my head causes my headache to worsen tenfold, and I curl into myself, moaning in pain.

The bed shifts beside me, causing me to freeze up. Is Dan laying here with me?

“Ah, has someone woken up?” Involuntarily, I gulp, worried for what he’ll want with me today. His hand meets my shoulder and rolls me onto my back, and before I can make any noise of concern he’s climbing on top of me. “Look at you - such a helpless thing today. You can hardly do anything.” Helplessly, my mouth lets free a whimper, which seems to make Dan laugh. “Honestly, you look really attractive like this. I could do anything right now. Have you thought about that yet? All the different things I could do to you whilst you’re tied up like this?” I clench my fingers around each other, knowing there’s nothing I can do to stop him.

Suddenly his lips are pressed against my cheek and I make a noise of discomfort, really not liking where this seems to be going. He got upset yesterday when I told him no, then seemed to make it his mission to get me to let him. Is he still going with that? Maybe he got bored of taking the time to make sure I’m wanting it. Maybe these restraints and here to make it easier for him to take it from me. My heart pounds horridly in my chest, alarm racing through my veins. His lips move to my neck and I turn my head away, wanting nothing than to wiggle myself away from him.

“You’re not complaining, are you?” Dan mumbles against my ear. I moan into my gag, trying to make my discomfort clear. “You know I can’t believe that. Not after yesterday.” The memory makes me cringe.

He grabs my wrists and tugs my arms into the air, which exposes my bare chest to him. The warm palm of his hand touches my left breast carefully and he leans his head down to press his ear against my ribcage too.

“Hmm…” he hums in thought. “Well this isn’t good. You’re panicked.” Dan sighs and gently presses a kiss to my chest. “Don’t say you’re scared again. I’ve never given you a reason to be nervous of my affections.” Unwillingly, I find myself agreeing with him on that one: Dan has honestly never hurt me through kisses or kind touches. Of course, I won’t forget how forceful he was when ecstatic, but he’s calm now. He’s not going to hurt me. “Now that’s better,” he sings, his hand still feeling for my heartbeat.

He shifts down my body slightly - only slightly, he’s nowhere near my lower-half. But then I remind myself: he’s never tied me up this much. He doesn’t care if I’m really in the mood - no, stop it, that’s not true. He asked to kiss me yesterday. Yes, but that was before he drugged you into unconsciousness, Phil. Actually, no it wasn’t. It was after I’d upset him, after I’d finished the soup.

Ahh, my head. I can’t keep doing this.

“I want to show you,” Dan mutters, his lips tracing my collar, “how beautiful you are.” At those words, I gulp, but at least he’s going to be nice.

He climbs up my torso until I feel his breath against my face, then his fingers curl round the cloth at my mouth and tug it down. I take the moment to catch a deep breath, but I’ve hardly closed my mouth again before Dan’s kissing me again. My wrists are dropped round his neck and he’s pushing forwards, obviously needy, not hesitating for a moment to slip his tongue between my lips. Strangely, I take to it, meeting his with my own, finding myself want to enjoy this kiss. Maybe that’s it, maybe Dan’s noticed that - how much I like it when he kisses me.

Fuck. Listen to me, acting like a slut for him. The Phil from two days ago wouldn’t believe it.

Dan’s lips draw away, and he leaves the cloth round my neck this time. But I don’t take this opportunity to talk. I let him move downwards, trailing gentle kisses from my collar down my chest. They pause for a moment, instead deciding to focus on one of my nipples, and as he runs his tongue lightly over it I can’t help the squeal that leaves my mouth. That makes Dan laugh quietly to himself.

“Just look at you,” he sighs, running his soft hands along the sensitive sides of my torso - a touch that makes me shiver. “You’re really enjoying this, huh?” I swallow down my inhibitions and nod my head confidently, knowing he’s right. “Then why do you always get so nervous? Is it really because you think you won’t like it, or maybe that’s exactly what you’re scared of: enjoying what I do to you.” I try to ignore those words, not wanting to think about it too much.

Suddenly his hands are grabbing the sides of my ribs and I’m thrown onto my front, with Dan pulling my hips up into the air. The action panics me more than anything he’s done before, so I cry out in worry - his hand clamps over my mouth.

“Shh…” he soothes against my ear. “We’re not doing whatever you think we are. I know you’re a top.” The thought makes me cringe, the fact that he was thinking about it. His fingers trace down the line of my spine and make my back involuntarily curve away from the touch. It’s too exposing, too weak. He could do anything to me like this. I can’t stop spouting whines of protest, but they all just meet his hand, its grasp firm around my jaw.

“Ugh. Fine.” Dan huffs in frustration and drops me onto the bed. But he doesn’t leave me for long - his hand grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls me up onto my knees on the bed. “Stay,” he commands, which I obey. I feel his weight leave the bed. “You’re too confusing. First you want me, now you don’t? Maybe you don’t even know.” My desk chair rolls over to the bed and I hear the sound of Dan’s fingers moving quickly across what sounds like a keyboard. I already know there’s sweat rolling down my forehead. He’s being too impulsive, I can’t even guess what he’s doing next. I don’t even know what he wants.

“Let’s play a game,” Dan sings, but he doesn’t sound happy. “How well do you know your own videos? We’ll start with an easy one.”

My ears fill with static and my voice, a crackly video version, fills the room around me.  _“Hey! So happy new year everyone! Two-thousand and nine -_ Two. Thousand. And nine _. Don’t really like the sound of that…”_

“Come on,” Dan urges, nudging me with his elbow. “Use your voice, Phil!”

Confused, I simply obey. “It’s called Two Thousand and Nine,” I admit shyly. “I made it in January.”

“Well duh,” Dan laughs. “Next one!”

_“Hey guys. Sorry it’s be so long since I posted my last video, I’ve been really busy with - You hear that noise? What is that?”_

I cringe. “Oh god.”

“Personally, I think it’s the best video you’ve ever made. I watch it all the time.” Dan’s giggling like a child in my ear. “But what’s it called?”

“A Static Lullaby - Toxic,” I quickly reply, really wishing he’d stop doing this. What’s the point of it, anyway? “Dan - ”

He ignores me. “Next one!”

I try again. “Dan - ”

_“Hi guys! Sorry it’s been_ eighteen years _since I’ve made a video. Unfortunately, I got kidnapped.”_

God, I can tell why he likes this one. “Dan, please - ”

“Shut up,” he growls suddenly, at which my mouth closes tightly. “Now this one. I want to know if you know it.”

It takes a little longer to get this one up, but once the voice comes through I know just why it did.

_“One thing that not that many people actually know about me is that… I suffer from quite a rare condition…”_

My blood runs cold in my veins. I feel tears forming in my eyes again, hidden by the blindfold.

_“… And whilst this condition isn’t necessarily life-threatening, it’s a problem I have to deal with every day of my life.”_

Dan pauses the video. I can feel how tense he is.

“You don’t know it, do you?” I don’t say anything. “I asked you to watch it. I spent hours making this, applying every piece of advice you gave me.” I can’t stop it - tears hit the cloth that covers my eyes. “And you couldn’t even watch it?”

Helplessly, I let out a sob. “Dan, please… Stop playing these games… I can’t take it anymore…”

For a moment, he says nothing. I feel his fingers reach out and carefully touch the cloth of my blindfold.

“Just tell me. What do you want with me? Please, stop taunting me like this. If you're…” I struggle to form the words. “If you’re going to rape me or kill me or whatever, I’ve had enough. Just get it over with.”

Dan stays tensely silent.

Suddenly he grabs my hair and is dragging me off the bed, causing me to scream as my bare feet harshly scuff the carpet. He drags me out with me screaming his name.

“ _SHUT UP!_ ” he yells, slamming my chest into something hard. I hear gushing water. Is this the sink?

His hand grabs my jaw and his fingers break into my mouth, forcing it open, and he shoves what feels like a toothbrush inside. I start to gag helplessly, choking at the unexpected action, but my arms are being crushed against the cold porcelain of the sink.

“I’ll clean out your mouth so you never say those words again!”

Once he’s attacked possibly every part of my mouth, he yanks the toothbrush out and holds my face over the sink.

“Spit it out!”

I comply, choking and gasping afterwards.

His arms wrap round my waist and drag me back, assumedly to my room, where he throws me onto the bed again. Dan climbs on top of my legs and growls, enraged.

“So this is what you think of me? You think I would - ! You want to me to - !”

The rope around my legs snap apart, making me worry. That was too fast. How did he - ?

Dan forces my legs apart an d pushes himself between them, only making my cries worse. “Dan, please!” I scream, but he doesn’t care.

He moves away, what should be to my relief, but he climbs up to my face, grabs my hair, and I feel something cold press against my throat. I let out a wavering breath. That’s how he cut the rope so fast.

“Dan…” I gasp out. Surely he wouldn’t.

“Is this what you want me to do?” I shake my head quickly, feeling the blade brush tauntingly across my vulnerable flesh. “I’ll do it, if I have to. I’ll hurt you when I need to.” The words come out like pants, or grunts, against my face. I’m still crying. “Don’t underestimate me, Phil. I’m not stupid. You don’t think your reluctance ever crossed my mind? I was expecting it.” He presses the knife harder and I gasp, holding my breath, like that might keep it away. “But I don’t want to hurt you. You don’t know how hard it is for me to see you like this. For god’s sake, look at you! You’re crying!”

He yanks the blindfold away quickly, and I’m surprised to see that Dan is crying too.

But he’s still so mad. His hand is trembling against my neck. “Look how much pain you’re causing, all because you won’t love me.”

At that, I seem to snap. “I’m trying, I swear!”

Dan shuts his mouth. His stare is terrifying. I wonder if this is it: one wrong step and I’m dead.

I continue. “You just… you scare me sometimes. But I swear… I promise you…” Nervously, I reach my hands up, trembling as they are, and clutch onto Dan’s shirt. “I want to love you. I’m really trying.”

He sits there in silence, which only worsens my dread. Then he pulls the knife away and throws it to the floor. “Prove it,” he calls out quickly, as if on impulse. Those words alone worry me. “One day, maybe one day soon, I want to suck you off.” I try not to show how the thought makes my stomach twist. “But I don’t know what to do.” He wipes his tears away and grabs my wrists tightly, almost desperately. “Teach me. Show me what to do.”

I know, no matter how I feel about him, there’s really no choice.

I swallow tensely. “Okay.” My fingers loosen from his shirt and he lets my wrists free. “Can I… can I demonstrate on you?”

Dan looks surprised. After a moment, he nods his head, crawling almost timidly onto the bed. As he lays down, where I previously lay, he reaches his hands to my wrists and unties them, leaving me with no more restraints at all. As I lean over him, I think I see him gulp. Is he nervous?

“You’re not hard yet,” I mumble, crawling up to his face, knowing what I have to do.

“Well no,” Dan calls back. “You talking about rape and murder kind of kills the mood.”

I almost get mad at that. He was the one to hold a knife to my throat.

I decide not to waste time, taking his lips against mine and working my tongue against his. I let his hands reach up to my face and thread through my hair, gently holding me, and slightly pulling me closer. It’s almost romantic, but I know better than to fall into that trap. And yet, even though I’m aware of that, I can’t help the way my fingers reach for the bottom of his shirt and pull it up, like I want it off, like I want what’s beneath. Dan helps me rid him of his shirt, not hesitating to bring our mouths together again straight afterwards. My fingers play down the centre of his chest and I feel him flinch beneath my touch.

He draws his mouth away. “I should say,” he gasps out, almost breathless already. “I’ve never… I’ve never even kissed anyone before.” Dan seems to blush.

I find myself smiling down at him, trying to be reassuring. “That’s cute. I should make this special then, right?”

He looks so surprised at me. It’s like he never expected this, but why not? Isn’t this what he wants of me? Did he just not think his fantasies would ever really be possible?

“I never asked,” Dan continues. He really seems nervous about this. Should that worry me? “Well, I never even knew you were a virgin. How much have you done, with other people?”

I have to think about that. “Honestly, there’s not much to say. I’ve kissed a few people - guys and girls, but girls were quickly ruled out after those experiences. But I’ve never gone further. If I’m being honest, I’ve never felt comfortable with that sort of thing.”

I move down his body until I’ve reached his crotch. My fingers fumble at his jeans, very loose around his hips. He’s already hard.

“I’m sorry.”

The outburst shocks me. I look up at him, confused.

“I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable. I just…” Dan sighs. “I want to be special to you. I want to mean something in your life. After all - you mean so much in mine.”

I can hardly believe this - he’s blushing.

I don’t feel like crying anymore. This new atmosphere… I don’t mind it.

With as much care as I can manage, I gently press the palm of my hand into his clothed crotch, feeling his erection beneath, and hearing the hitch it causes in his breath. It’s intriguing - how I can affect him like this.

“Phil.” The name falls from his lips, and I feel mesmerised by the way it sounds. “Phil, please.”

I pull down his jeans, obliging with his unspoken request. “I won’t be able to talk you through it,” I say, running my tongue over my lips. Dan nods quickly. “So, just, try and pick up what I do. I guess.”

My heart’s in my throat as my fingers slip under the hem of his boxers. For a moment, I pause, inspecting their design.

“They’re yours,” Dan admits with a bright red blush on his cheeks. “I stole them. I couldn’t help myself.”

I try not to chuckle: sometimes I forget that he’s an obsessed fan of mine.

Honestly, I never thought such a thing was possible. I’m just ‘Phil’. There’s nothing special about me. So the fact that there’s someone who cares this much about me… I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t be looking at him like that.

I tug down his - or my - underwear, far enough for me to clearly see what’s beneath. It’s almost cute. He’s a small enough size and the little drop at the head tells me how good he’s already feeling. I feel something warm like pride stir inside my chest.

I lean my face down, like I’m not even scared, and wrap my fingers round him. His mouth lets out a quiet squeak at my touch - a noise I’m instantly desperate to hear again. I play my hand along him, noticing his fingers grasp the duvet out the corner of my eye. I notice something new about this. No, not 'new’, that’s not the right word. Trouble is, 'wrong’ definitely isn’t it either.

Oh. I figure it out, staring at the head of his small cock. It’s warm, this feeling. It’s good.

I’ve found myself wanting to do this.

I take the tip between my lips, ignoring the taste of precum on my tongue, and instead tuning in to the sweet noises that Dan makes because of me. I work my way down, brushing my tongue around his length, which more than makes him moan.

“F-fuck…” he gasps almost breathlessly. I feel my face brighten at his joy.

I pull up slightly, deciding to focus on his head. My tongue swirls and curls around the tip, almost twirling like a dancer in mindless contentment. Dan’s whimpers light a fire inside me, urging me to go on, making me desperate to hear more. He’s practically twitching already. I wonder how much longer he can last. I’m the first to ever do this to him - this is untouched territory I’m treading, like the unmarked morning snow I used to play in as a child. That fire spreads from my chest to my stomach, and then, to my surprise, lower. But I’m still not scared. I don’t want to be. I want to enjoy this.

“Phil, I’m - I’ll - ” Dan stutters out, the words falling in a helpless mess from his mouth. I start to suck gently, his tip between my lips, and his hips rock upwards in response. “Fuck, Phil!” It pleases me - how few words he can say when I treat him like this. It’s like I’m drawing out a whole new side of him.

As it turns out, he can’t last very long. As I draw him to climax, his legs twitch around me, and his release spills onto my tongue. Despite the taste, I hold it in as I pull off, and, looking up and meeting his eyes, I swallow it down. Dan lets out a moan at that.

“Well… Shit…” he gasps, running a hand through his hair. I’ve never seen him so wretched. His cheeks are still the same bright pink as they were when we started. “I want…” Dan shyly licks his lips. “Can I try it?”

Aware of my state, I mutter back a yes, letting him climb up and push my back against the wall. I gulp nervously as his hands reach down to my crotch, my heart thumping excitedly in my chest.

“You’re already hard,” Dan comments. I notice his hands are trembling.

“Yeah,” I reply, unashamed. “Seeing you like that kind of gets me in the mood.”

His fingers brush timidly over the front of my boxers, the desperately-needed touch making me twitch. “You weren’t even this hard yesterday. Something’s changed.” I don’t know what he’s getting at, but I decide not to question him.

He pushes my thighs apart and perches himself between them, leaning down until his head is merely inches from my crotch. My hands, not knowing what to do, reach to my sides and grab the bedsheets between their fingers.

Dan stops, pauses, then looks up at me. “Help me,” he cries. “I don’t want to get this wrong.”

I feel his cuteness tug on my heart. “You don’t have to use your mouth if - ”

“No. I want to.” He looks back, almost glaring, at my boxers. “But I’ve never done this before. I want to be good for you.”

No, this dynamic is strange. It doesn’t make sense. But… But I like it like this. It feels more natural.

Watching him, I smile, bringing my right hand to his hair and stroking carefully. “It’s alright. Just you wanting to do it is more than good enough for me.”

He cuts our conversation there. His trembling fingers take my underwear in their grasp and tug them down, just enough to expose me. No, that’s not what I mean. Just enough for him to reach. His left fingers curl around my length, with me watching nervously. That’s not the right word anymore. Anticipatingly. His pace is unsure and his grip is delicate, like he thinks I’m made of porcelain. It’s sweet of him.

Timidly, he sticks out his tongue and licks over the head of my cock, the action making me gasp. Dan’s eyes dart up to mine briefly, as if asking for approval, before looking down again and repeating the action. After the third one, I’m already whimpering, my fingers tightening in his hair. I want him closer and I can’t deny that. As if reading my thoughts, Dan obliges, parting his lips and letting my desperate cock feel the warmth of the inside of his mouth. It overwhelms me, so I let out a cry of bliss, gripping Dan’s hair tightly. My head falls back against the wall as he moves along me, making me tremble, my mouth open and small pants passing my lips.

“Oh, Dan,” I whimper helplessly into the silent room. “You're… so good…”

He hums in appreciation, causing vibrations to rush through my cock, and I moan out suddenly in response. I’ve never felt like this before. He’s so generous, treating me with such sensations. I feel him try his tongue against me, and even though there’s no skill or expertise to his movements, just the feeling of his tongue’s soft texture is enough to make me twitch.

I know I’m building. He’s far too good. Or I’m too easy. “Dan,” I try, knowing I’m going to struggle. “I know I - I swallowed, but -  _fuck_  - don’t, it’s fine - the taste - it’s not nice -  _oh god, Dan_  - ”

I dare a glance down. He’s staring right at me, watching me. It’s not creepy - it’s endearing. He’s so curious.

_“Fuck!”_  I cry, shivering as I come, my fingers twitching in his hair. My eyes shut tightly and my legs shake against his shoulders, unable to contain or control myself in this state. It can’t be real. I can’t feel this good. Not with him. But no - it’s because of him. Dan makes me feel this way. I always have him to thank.

I fall limp against the wall and my hand slips from his hair. “Dan…” I sigh, exhausted. I can’t help but watch him curiously as he pulls away, staring up at me expectantly, and swallows shyly. The sight makes my heart throb for him. I knew he wanted me. I never thought he’d be so giving.

“We should shower…” I breathe out, not able to do much else. He’s wasted me.

Dan just slowly shakes his head, looking up at me and grinning. “Not yet. Let’s have breakfast first. You must be hungry.” My head practically nods itself - I can’t deny that. It feels like I haven’t eaten in days. Actually, I don’t think I have.

He stands up and leaves the bed, and I watch him walk to the door. He swings it open and looks back at me. I sit there, staring back, wondering what restraints he’s going to put back on me. But he surprises me: he holds out an inviting hand, that proud smile beaming from his face.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: mentions of hostage/captor dynamic, strong language, smut (just frottage), mentions of homophobia, and… watch it… snuggling O_O (I know, diabolical)**

I follow Dan through the doorway, the familiar corridors of the rest of my house feeling strangely old. It’s like I shouldn’t be out here. I shiver at the feeling.

He’s holding my hand tightly as he leads me down the stairs. I can see, on the way down, all the changes he’s made to the house. There’s a shiny new lock on every door - a combination lock as well - and one of those gates made for toddlers and small dogs to keep them from escaping at the top and the bottom of the stairs. Their presence makes me shrink into myself. I know why they’re there. I’m reminded of what Dan said earlier:

_“Don’t underestimate me, Phil. I’m not stupid. You don’t think your reluctance ever crossed my mind? I was expecting it.”_

He really was. He must have been doing this when I was knocked out, making sure before we’d even begun that I couldn’t escape. He must have been so worried of me leaving him.

“Phil,” Dan calls, pulling me out of my thoughts. He drags me through the gate at the bottom of the stairs with a  worried look on his face. “You’re thinking too hard. Is it about the precautions I’ve set up?” Swallowing, I nod my head. He’s certainly not stupid, like he says. “Don’t worry. I’m not planning on giving you a reason to run from me. I just know that if you ever did, you wouldn’t be the in best mindset. You’d be a danger both to yourself and to me.”

He pulls me close and places a soothing kiss to my cheek.

“Imagine how hard it was for me to set these up. I was sweating like mad, I’ve never done any hard labour before, and I was panicking with anxiety about you. Don’t you think, with all that drilling, that I thought you would wake up at any moment?” He laughs to himself and continues down the hallway, taking me to the kitchen. I think to myself how, looking back, that probably is quite funny.

He sits me down at the kitchen table and switches on the hotplate, and I watch him move without saying a word. I think I’m still worn out from our… well, our latest activity.

“Give me one second,” Dan sings, walking back and kissing my head quickly before returning up the stairs.

I stay seated peacefully, even swinging my legs beneath the table. It feels good to be downstairs again. I can breathe freely at last.

My stomach rumbles so I press my hand to it, realising that I’m only in my underwear. It really does amaze me how Dan manages to see me like this all the time.

He returns again, noticing me in my chair and smiling happily. He’s carrying some clothes, which he places on the table in front of me.

“You can get changed by the way,” he sings, grabbing a few ingredients from my cupboards. “I brought some extra underwear just in case you felt like changing out of those ones.” I notice then, as I rummage for the shirt he chose me, that he’s pulled on a jumper too. It’s a cute turtleneck, dark in colour. It really suits him. I blush at the thought and start to button up my shirt.

Oh for god’s sake, Phil. You’re blushing at that when just a minute ago you were sucking him off?

Well, yes. There’s a big difference between doing something like that and actually having feelings for him.

“I’m making pancakes,” Dan calls to me. “I hoped you might like them.” He turns his head round to me, apparently asking for approval, so I smile back and nod my head.

So I sit there in silence, once I’ve changed into my new plaid shirt and jeans, swinging my feet under my chair.

After a while, Dan finishes making some pancakes, and brings two plates to the table. He then grabs a couple of forks and sits down at the edge of the table beside me. I don’t even wait to throw down the food, humming contently at the sweet flavour. I barely even notice that Dan’s watching me, in his usual curious way.

“I want you to know,” he starts suddenly, interrupting me mid-mouthful. “I don’t know what you think all this is, especially after all that talk of murder and stuff…” he clears his throat. I can see a hint of sadness, and possibly anxiety, in his eyes. “But I don’t want you thinking like that. I’m not that smart, or that psychotic. I’m only here because I love you - because I couldn’t stay away. I promise you, Phil - ” He leans forward and takes my hand in his own, squeezing tightly like he’s afraid to let me go. “ - I never want to hurt you. I want to be with you. It’s all I ever dream about.”

I swallow down my mouthful and show him a kind smile. “I want that too.”

Dan’s eyes light up ecstatically, and he pushes his chair out, turns mine round, and straddles me, wrapping his arms loosely round my neck. He’s staring down at me with scrutiny, and with curiosity, and worry. He must be terrified around me, terrified that he can’t know for certain what I’m thinking, and terrified that any moment I might try and escape him.

But that’s not what I’m thinking.

“Prove it.” His voice trembles nervously. He buries his face in my neck. “Please, I have to be sure.”

Reassuringly, I place my hands on his hips and twist the bottom of his shirt between my fingers. And, just to be safe, I turn and press my lips softly against his neck. “Let’s make a video,” I mutter, causing him to pull back with wide eyes. “Let’s make one. Together. It’ll be like a milestone in our journey.” At the sight of his worried expression, I slip my fingers beneath his shirt, trying to show him that I want him this close. “We can call it something special. Who knows - we could make a few. Would you want to collab with me?”

Dan chews on his bottom lip and nods his head. “It’s what I’ve dreamed of,” he confesses, a blush rising to his cheeks. “You’d really have me in a video? On your channel?” I nod my head happily. Dan lets out a loud and excited squeal and presses his lips to mine, trying - and succeeding - to express his gratitude through a kiss.

Then he jumps up, taking my hand, and runs with me back stairs. “This is so exciting!”

I laugh with him, his excitement practically contagious.

Once we’re back inside my room, he drags us both on to the bed and pulls the chair back over to us - more specifically, bringing us my laptop. He gestures over to me. “Ask for people to send you questions - a Q and A video would be perfect!” I smile, nodding my head in agreement, as I open the internet, doing exactly as he says. Dan watches over my shoulder and I type it out, waiting until it’s sent before grabbing my wrist hurriedly and taking me now into the bathroom. “We need to wash our faces, put on makeup - god, there’s so much to get ready!”

I allow myself a little chuckle at his rush and excitement. “Makeup? What?”

Dan nods quickly, turning on the tap and throwing water over his face. “Yeah, I wear it for every video. If you’d watched my last one, you would’ve known that.”

And there, with those words, the atmosphere flattens between us.

“Dan - ” I try.

“Don’t want to hear it,” he deadpans, scrubbing his face with bubbles.

“Just let me - ”

“No, Phil.” I shut my mouth. Dan glares at me through the mirror. “I asked you personally. There’s no excuse you can give me. You just couldn’t be asked.”

After a moment of stillness and silence, I sigh into the room. “My mum called me.”

Dan stops. He turns off the tap. “Oh.”

I nod. “She’s organised a family holiday to Florida in May.” I bow my head. “You know I haven’t see her or dad in years. I was in a bad place. I wanted to help you, but… I just couldn’t stop worrying about it. It’s silly of me, really. It’s months from now.”

Dan stays quiet for a moment. Then he’s wrapping his arms comfortingly round my middle, hugging me kindly. “It’s not silly. It makes perfect sense.” He presses his lips to the back of my neck.

This reaction surprises me. There’s not much I’ve even told Dan about my parents. He knows they’re never there for me. He knows I’ve lived alone since I started university back in 2005. And he knows I don’t want to see them. Nothing more than that.

His hands reach up to undo the top button of my shirt. “Don’t worry. I’ll take your mind off them, okay?” I hum in contentment, knowing he will.

We sit crossed-legged on my bedroom floor for about an hour, working through our hair, our clothes, tidying the room, attempting to put makeup on my face, and finally writing down the questions. I find it weird - seeing how many people actually care about me. I have so many fans. And yet, I never expected anything like Dan to be possible.

I switch the camera on quickly - but Dan squeals in panic and jumps to switch it off. “Are you crazy?! We’re not ready!”

I grab him before he reaches it and pull him back down, giggling. “It doesn’t matter. We can just keep on talking nonsense and edit the bad bits out. We don’t have to script it - especially not a Q and A.” He’s still breathing rapidly, so I press my palm against his chest, just above his heart, and steal a quick kiss from his lips. “Just relax. You’ll do great.”

Dan sighs, his shoulders finally relaxing, and he shows me a cute smile. “Thank you.”

Then he reaches over my desk and comes back holding something special - lion. “Can’t forget him, can we? You haven’t made a vlog without him yet. I don’t want you starting such a bad habit.” I laugh with him at that.

We run through almost every question, unaware of much time passes between us.

“What does a giraffe sound like?” I make some screeching noises, causing Dan to lose it. “That’s a - every, every animal makes that noise with you!” I grin, making the noise again, until Dan shoves me playfully away from him, leaving us both giggling.

Ten minutes pass.

“May I stroke your glabella?” Dan reads with an amused smile.

“What’s a glabella?” I asked, concerned.

“Let’s find out what a glabella is!”

I smile excitedly, jumping up to my feet and grabbing my laptop. “I hope it’s something really obscure, like a bony bit of your foot.”

Dan rolls his eyes and shuffles over to my side. “Be honest, it’s going to be sexual.” He pulls up the definition. “ _The glabella is the space between the eyebrows and above the nose_ ,” he reads.

I point to my supposed glabella. “There?” Dan repeats it with a nod. I gesture back to the laptop in his lap. “Show the diagram.”

At that, Dan rolls his eyes. “They won’t be able to see it, Phil.”

I shrug my shoulders amusedly. “Why not? Try it!”

Huffing, Dan shows me why exactly it won’t work - the camera just shows a blur of white light. “Oh, that’s so interesting Phil,” he mocks. “I bet they’re all so glad they can see the diagram.”

“Oh shush,” I laugh, throwing a pillow in his face, knocking him to the ground. “Sorry!” Dan just laughs and shakes his head, putting my laptop to the side, grabbing the pillow, and throwing it right back at me. I scream helplessly as it flies into my face, making me fall down as well.

Half an hour passes.

Dan sits to my left, a little behind me.

“So I guess that’s it, then?” I nod my head, trying not to grin at the camera. “Honestly, I have to say: this was the most fun I’ve - ”

Finally, I let myself smile, turning round and catching him in a tight hug, Dan letting out a cry in surprise, as we both fall to the ground. We giggle to each other, our legs becoming an entangled mess between us.

“I hate you,” Dan whines, throwing his fringe out of his eyes.

“You love me,” I laugh back. That makes him smile.

“I can do both. You’re both adorable and  _fucking annoying_.” His legs flatten out below me, so I settle my knees on either side of them, leaning down more comfortably. “We’re editing this out, aren’t we?”

“Mhmm,” I hum back, quickly meeting his lips with my own. He kisses me back instantly, a hand curling round my neck and threading through my hair to hold me close. His lips part slightly, invitingly, so I accept the invitation, playing my tongue against his own. He’s too good to kiss. It’s like I can’t stay away anymore. He’s too soft, too invitingly, and I give in every time without a single regret.

I move my right leg and place it between his legs, being careful as I roll my thigh against his crotch. Dan breathes out a sharp sigh in response. I pull my lips away. “You’re hard,” I tell him. He whines out a small ‘yes’. I duck my head into his neck, nudging the collar of his shirt down and pressing my lips against his sensitive skin. He practically cries at that. “Want me to help you?” He pants out a 'yes please’ quietly, as if nervous to admit it.

I continue to kiss at his neck as my hand reaches down between our bodies - but a hand of his grabs my wrist to stop me. “No. Not just me.” Dan drags my arm away and instead wraps his arms around my waist, pulling my crotch into his. I let out a quiet moan at the friction he gives me, letting him continue. Who knew I was hard as well? He rocks up as I rock down, meeting in a sweet middle. I try to keep pressing kisses to his neck, but I’m soon lost for breath, only able to pant against his skin. Dan’s moaning helplessly against my ear. I know  he’s close - he never takes very long. But, even saying that, I’m not that far behind.

He’s too good to me. It feels too good. I want him closer, and I won’t deny that.

I bury my face into his shoulder, moaning out a breathless “Fuck…”

His fingers claw at my back, his knees parting even wider for me. It’s odd, that he takes such a submissive role. But he is a bottom after all.

We drive ourselves to climax, twitching it each other’s grasps on the floor of my bedroom. I never would have imagined us doing this, not when I first saw him here. But I’m glad we’ve come this far. I hear my name fall from Dan’s mouth in a helpless little squeak, his fingers pressing tightly into my flesh.

I wonder what it’s like for him, this situation, if he really loves me as much as he says. He must be so grateful that I do these things with him.

In fact, the words 'thank you’ are exactly what he whispers to me, once we’re spent on the floor. I don’t say anything back. I can’t find my voice yet. But I’m sure he knows how grateful I am as well.

“Okay,” he groans after a while. “As much fun as that was, our clothes are ruined. Take them off and I’ll put them for washing.” I nod my head at him, finally climbing off of him and complying with his request. I stand up and turn around to take off my boxers - a batman pattern this time - dropping them onto the heap that is mine and Dan’s jeans. I reach forwards to open my underwear drawer, grabbing both myself and Dan a new pair, and slipping them quickly on.

“Decent?” I call, waiting for him to respond with a confident 'yes’ before turning back around. Dan stands before me, a little more sheepish than before, with a little pleasant smile on his face. “Should I get editing then?”

Dan steps forwards and takes my hands in his, slipping our fingers together. “No, I’ll do that. There’s too much to go through and I don’t want to waste a single minute that we’re together.” He leans right forward and rests his head against my chest, sighing peacefully. “We should watch TV. I’ve been eager to watch WALL-E ever since you brought it up.”

So I follow him downstairs, curling up together on the sofa as the film plays through the night.

But I don’t watch too much of it - actually, I stare at the window, enjoying the way the curtains haven’t been completely pulled over. I can see the sun, in all its glory, beaming through my window, and I can watch it fade into the horizon, its bright light fading through red to purple until only darkness remains. But it isn’t a scary sight - in fact, as it darkens outside, the light inside this room gets brighter.

I curl up in Dan’s lap, my legs pulled up, my arms held against my chest, as I stare out of this window endlessly.

After a while, Dan’s fingers start to sweep through my hair, and I find myself purring at the affection. I’m too tired already - after all, it’s certainly been a long day. I’ll fall asleep before I know it. Especially if Dan keeps petting me this way.

I’m not wrong. My eyelids grow steadily heavily, and they start to droop without my permission. For seconds at a time, I blink out, always wondering how long I was out for this time. I can’t hold back much longer. Besides… it’s too comfy… being in Dan’s hold…

“Phil,” he whispers. I don’t even stir. My eyes are almost closed. His hand sweeps down the line of my jaw and cups round the side of my face, turning my head slowly up to him. I try to keep my eyes open, staring up at his curious expression. On his lips curls a smile at my state. “Nevermind. Go back to sleep.” He carefully leads my head back. As he lets go, I let out a little shiver, whining sleepily. “Shh… It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

I believe him.

I fall down after that, down into the depths of a comfortable sleep.

I wake up, only a bit, not even to move or open my eyes.

Dan’s struggling to move. It’s quite amusing. He lifts me up as well as he can, maybe intending to take me up upstairs. But he sighs to himself and instead rests me gently on the sofa. My body shivers helplessly. I hear Dan leave the room.

I might blink out again. I’m not sure.

I wake up again and Dan’s pulling a blanket over my body, tugging it under my chin. My hands grab it sleepily and tug it closer to my chest, practically purring at the feeling. It’s a fluffy one. He’s changed my clothes. I’m wearing my pyjamas now. They’re much comfier.

His fingers brush the hair from my face and tuck it behind my ear. Then they stroke lovingly across my cheek.

“So beautiful…” he hums. “I really love him, don’t I?”

Dan leans down and presses his soft lips to the top of my head, like a mother might to their child, and then his touch is gone.

I drift away again.

The sound of a keyboard fills my ears. It’s not enough to wake me.

It falls away.

Then I hear the sounds of cooking, something sizzling, metal clinking quietly together.

And I fall asleep for good.

_“Are you okay today?” I asked him worriedly. He’s never acted so shy before - not even the first time we spoke to each other. “You know you can talk to me, right?”_

_Dan nodded his head, not even hesitating._

_“Then what’s wrong?” He kept silent. “Is it something you can’t tell me?” He paused, then just shrugged his shoulders. I really didn’t want to push him, especially if he was this closed off. But I wanted to help him even more. “Why don’t you try me?”_

_For a moment, I thought that this was going to be it - Dan just wouldn’t respond to me for the rest of the night. But then -_

_“I got hit today,” his small voice came out. I saw his fingers clench round his arm._

_“Oh god. Who was it?”_

_He shook his head. “You wouldn’t know them.”_

_“Tell me and I promise to pound them into next century.” That made Dan chuckle. “Was it someone at work?”_

_He nodded. “Some dumb boys. They’ve yelled at me before, but not… they’ve never hit me.”_

_I smiled sadly. So that’s why he’s so shaken up. “I’m not saying they have any justification, alright, or that you’re doing anything wrong. But do you know what they yell at for you? Surely they wouldn’t hit you without some sort of stupid, twisted reason for it.”_

_At that, Dan’s fingers tightened around his arm. “I’m gay.”_

_My stomach flipped. “Huh?”_

_“That’s why they bully me. They know I’m gay.” I couldn’t say a word. “I know I can tell you anything, I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone. But I… I couldn’t tell you that. You’d never look at me the same way. I can’t stand that.”_

_I sat there, shocked, for a long time, which probably didn’t help him at that moment. “Dan…” I struggled out. He didn’t acknowledge me. “I can’t believe that.” His face scrunched up in pain. “You think I’d stop talking to you because of something like that?”_

_His head shot up, a look of sheer shock and confusion on his face._

_“Dan, listen to me. You have and always will be the same person no matter what anyone thinks or knows about you. Whether or not I know you’re gay can’t change how much I enjoy talking to you every night.” I watched a blush rise quickly to his cheeks. “And I bet you knowing that I’m gay too works the same way.”_

_His eyes widened. “You’re - ”_

_I nodded. “Yep. Just the same. So, just for that, I’m definitely going to beat up whoever picked on you. Or, you know, maybe send them a strongly-worded letter. After all,” I smiled, “It’s not like you’re in love with me. Now_ that _would change the game.”_

_Dan laughed at that - finally, a laugh and a smile! - and dropped his hand from his arm._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, smut (dw it’s very consensual) (frottage, handjob), drugging**

Dan wakes me up this morning, shaking my shoulder until I open my eyes, and before me he holds the most amazing sight - a premade steaming plate of pancakes.

“Morning,” he smiles down at me, perching himself on the side of my bed. “Sorry I didn’t make you dinner last night - I tried to ask you if you wanted any, but you were so sleepy. I couldn’t keep you from slumber when you looked like that.”

I smile back, digging into my breakfast happily.

“I’ve already got a plan for today, by the way.” I make an interested noise, staring up at him expectantly. “I want you to make a video. Without me this time. I want to see behind-the-scenes of the making of AmazingPhil.” His smile is wide and excited. He’s a real fan of mine, huh? I almost forgot. “You can almost forget I’m here entirely. I’ll just sit in the corner and watch, okay?”

I smile at his idea. “Sounds like fun.”

It takes me a while to come up with something good enough to make an entire video out of. Well, at least I have a bank of ideas stored in a little notebook.

There’s so much pressure. That’s how I feel right now. Dan sees me like an angel. I can’t make a crappy video. After all, the whole reason he obsesses over me so much is because of these videos. Could he fall out of love if I’m not as great as it seemed?

Or maybe I’m just overthinking it. Maybe he’s just interested in how I do it. Maybe he wants to feel more special than my other fans, because he gets to know what goes on behind the screen.

I plan for a lot longer than usual. It’s not so much a plan, actually, as much as a list of things I could possibly talk about. After all, that’s what I go for: chat for as long as I possibly can until my brain runs dry, and then edit it down.

Dan sits in the corner, literally, just like he said he would. He’s perched in front of the door, which I already know is a subtle reminder that I’m not going anywhere. But it’s not necessary: I’m not thinking of running away. I’m staying right where I am. I’m happy here.

I cross my legs on the floor in front of my desk, lean forwards, and switch the camera on. Let the fun begin.

God, my heart’s pounding in my chest. I’m never normally this nervous.

Then again, this is not a normal session.

“Hey guys!” I begin, my voice obviously shaky. I lose it instantly and shake my head in shame. “Oh god. Sorry Dan. It usually takes this long.”

I glance over to him, where he’s got his legs crossed too, and a bright childlike smile on his face. “Don’t worry. It’s really fun to see you mess up. It’s cute.” He winks at me then, giggling to himself. I hope the blush on my cheeks doesn’t show in the video.

Composing myself, or at least trying to, I turn back to the camera.

“Hey guys! I’ve been trying to imagine a life without the internet, and my brain just goes  _‘uuuugh_ ’.”

Dan starts chuckling to himself and I shoot him a look of annoyance. “Sorry. I wasn’t ready for a noise like that.”

I roll my eyes at him. “Why not? I do it all the time.”

“I know. But you always catch me off-guard. It always makes me laugh.”

I turn back, for the second time, and try again.

“What did people do before the internet existed? I remember when I first ever went on the internet it was in my friend - ” My tongue twists up, I’m talking too fast, goddammit I’m so nervous! “ - Gareth’s house and he got dial up AOL,” deep breath, “and it took like five minutes to sign in, it was like:” I try and mimic the sound as best as I can, and Dan surprisingly manages to keep it in this time. “And then we signed in and we went in an AOL chat room and talked to a German woman…”

“You WHAT?” Dan cries suddenly. I can’t help but laugh. “Are you an actual idiot? Don’t talk to strangers online, Phil! She could have killed you!” He keeps going but I can’t hear him, I’m laughing too hard. “What would I have done if you were dead, Phil! Don’t laugh about it!”

“Dan, calm down,” I gasp out, regaining myself once again. “This was years ago. Child predators hadn’t even been invented yet.”

He huffs, folding his arms, and glares me, but he’s still trying to keep that smile down.

“Anyway,” I, for the  _third_  time, turn back to the camera. “We talked to this German woman, and then we were having a nice chat, and then she sent us naked pictures of herself and Gareth’s mum saw and was like  _'Turn it off! Now!’_  So then I was banned from the internet. But then!” I cry, snapping my fingers like an idiot to the camera. “We got it at my house.”

“No, hold up,” Dan interrupts. Again. “You’re literally the definition of an idiot.” I smile at him, showing him a big proud grin. “Why have I never heard this story before?”

I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know. I have a lot of weird stories.”

“Could they all have led to your death?”

I chuckle at that.

“Can I keep going now?” I ask, pretending to be annoyed. “I’ve never been interrupted so much in my life, you know.”

“Yeah, because you don’t have any friends.” I gasp, grabbing the nearest heap of clothes and chucking it at Dan’s head. “Alright, alright, you can keep going! But you know I’m right.”

I huff at that and decide to ignore him, turning,  _for the fourth damn time_ , to the camera.

Actually, after that, Dan mostly keeps his mouth shut. When I glance over to him, he’s sitting there happily, watching me intently, as though entranced by my performance. I still find it strange: the way he looks at me. It’s like he sees me as something far greater, far more important, and far more exciting than I really am. In reality, I’m just a silly kid making silly videos. But Dan stares at me like I’ve descended from heaven.

Even so, his gaze warms my heart.

After listing a ton of good things that the internet has given me, like knowing what emoticons are, and all the things that fans have sent me, and after whining about how homework would have to be done by reading  _books_  (I know, it’s hell), I catch sight of my cat ears on top of my desk and decide to go for them.

“So yeah - big hug for the internet!” I call, reaching up to my desk and grabbing the ears. “I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t talk to you guys all the time, it really is - ” I sit back down and slip the cat ears onto my head. “ - a huge part of my life.”

I glance over to Dan, who’s giggling quietly to himself, and I try not to smile at him.

“And I think if I was born in caveman times, I would’ve been eaten by a huge mammoth by now.”

“Okay, okay, okay, dear lord I’m almost bored!” Dan whines from his little corner, pushing himself up onto his feet. “I want to do something else now! Can you finish that later?”

I nod my head in compliance. Hmm. He seemed so happy watching. Was that a fake smile? Does he do that with me?

Gah, I’m overthinking him again.

Strangely, we don’t do much after that.

We go downstairs and he cooks a large brunch for the both of us. Whilst it’s cooking, I make us both tea, receiving a grateful smile. As I stir them carefully, I feel Dan wrap his arms around my waist and press his lips against my neck, and it’s so obviously cheesy I can’t help but laugh.

“You’re such a dork,” I tell him in a chuckle, putting my hand to his cheek and pressing my lips against his. It’s too damn coupley and domestic, it’s stupid. But it’s also sweet and loving all the same.

Dan pulls away with a big grin on his face. “Mm, you’re a dork for liking it,” he shoots back, returning to the oven to check on the sausages and bacon.

And damn, when we get round to eating, I haven’t had a meal this big in a long time! I didn’t even know Dan could cook! I compliment him on it, but he just blushes and shakes his head.

“After lunch, I want to edit that video you made today,” Dan tells me mid-mouthful. I find it endearing, his lack of self-consciousness around me, like he doesn’t care if he acts like a fool. “I want to see how long it really takes you. You told me hours. Were you trying to impress me?”

Dan quickly learns that  _no, I was not lying._

He gets bored really quickly, groaning and rolling around on my bed whilst I sit at my desk cutting and moving clips around in Movie Maker.

“Dear lord, you weren’t kidding. This is so boring! How do you bear to do this?”

I chuckle, his childish complaining sounding so cute. “Didn’t you edit our stuff from yesterday?” Dan groans out what was probably meant to sound like _'oh god yes’_.  "Well, how long did that take you?“

"Ugh. I don’t know, I gave up after an hour. You should really script your videos, you know? Saves a hell of a lot of editing.”

I have to agree with him there. “But I’m random and impulsive. I can’t think up good video content like you.”

Dan sits up then and stares at me. “Are you saying my videos are good?”

I stop working and turn round in my chair. “Of course I am. You already have subscribers. Honestly, your videos are really interesting, and the stuff you talk about is really well thought out. All I can ever do is blabber on and hope people care about my life. But you,” I nod at him. “You make videos that are not only interesting, but they’re good quality too. I’d say you’re better than me.”

Dan blushes profusely and drops his head away from my view, so I walk over to him, place one hand over his, and take his chin with the other. He lifts his head instantly, staring at me with those wide adoring eyes.

“Don’t be so shy. I’m not lying to you. I’m not saying this with any alternate intent. You’re just a great creator.”

He just continues to stare at me, completely perplexed.

Then he blurts out “I love you!”, which makes me break into a smile. “I don’t think I could love you anymore than I do right now.”

He reaches forward, grabs my shirt quickly, and pulls me into him, crashing our mouths together. His force drags me over the edge of the bed, so my hands grab desperately at his shoulders to keep me steady.  _Jesus_ , Dan’s never been this impulsive before.

And just as soon as he’s started, he pulls back, letting go of me immediately. “Sorry,” he gasps, his blush only deepening. “I’ve never even imagined you saying that stuff to me.”

My eyebrows raise in surprise. “Really? You never thought I’d compliment you on your videos?”

Dan shakes his head. “I never thought you’d compliment me at all, to be honest.” I’m speechless. “You’re too perfect. And I’m just… meh. I mean, I could only have you if I kidnapped you. Doesn’t that say enough?”

I fall to my knees before him and take his hands in mine tightly. “Don’t you dare think that. You’re an incredible human being. The mere fact that you could pull this off is worth being proud of. How many people do you think could actually do what you’ve done?” His shoulders shrug dismissively. “Besides: you already knew you were special to me before any of this happened. You were special when you were just a url to me. Doesn’t that say anything?”

Still, Dan keeps silent. So I put my hands to his cheeks and meet our lips as sweetly as I can.

“We’ve done a lot of new things together. I’d never really collabed with anyone before. I’d never snuggled with someone until I fell asleep. I’d never shared breakfast or lunch with anyone as intimately as this. And I’d never showered with anyone either.” Dan meets my eyes then. They shine with childlike sweetness. He really needs my approval. “And, if I have to remind you, no one had ever touched me before you. No one had ever made me come. No one had ever given me a blowjob. And I’d never done any of those things for anyone else - until you. And those are things that will belong to you for the rest of time.”

He isn’t blushing anymore. He’s smiling.

“And, for the record, you didn’t kidnap me.” His smile widens. “I’m not your hostage. We’re friends.” I pull him closer. “We’re more than friends.”

At those words, Dan sighs, and settles his hands over mine. “You don’t know how good it feels to hear you say that.”

We head to bed after that.

We brush our teeth in the bathroom and wash our faces, throwing water in each other faces and laughing like children.

We get changed into our pyjamas and as I crawl into bed Dan turns off the light, leaving the lava lamp switched on, and then climbs under the covers after me. I turn myself around and bury my face in his chest, and I let his arms engulf me in their loving warmth. And there we stay, drifting off to sleep, with smiles on our faces.

We upload my video the next day: 'Life Without the Internet!?’

We have breakfast in our pyjamas, like yesterday - pancakes again. Dan really treats me, huh?

Once we’re finished, I take our plates and cutlery over to the sink, washing up quickly.

“We haven’t washed in a few days,” I admit, eager for his reaction. “We should shower today.”

Dan hummed in agreement. “I agree.”

He takes my hand, once the washing up is done, and leads me, smiling, upstairs again. We don’t detour to my bedroom - we beeline for the bathroom. We aren’t rushing though, make no mistake.

Dan closes the door behind me and starts to pull off his clothes, and I don’t hesitate to do the same.

“Ugh,” he groans, running his hands experimentally through his hair. “So greasy. We really should have washed sooner than this.”

I simply hum in response.

Dan jumps in before I’m undressed, still wearing his boxers, and turns on the shower. As he waits for it to heat up, he turns back to me and his eyes go wide.

“What?” I chuckle back at his expression. “You said I could only wear them once, right?”

His eyes dart downwards, and I see him gulp. “Yeah, I did. But I didn’t think you’d actually go along with it.” He won’t stop damn staring.

“Should I cover myself back - ”

“No!” he squeals, his face flushing bright pink. “No, it’s alright. You’re good like that.”

I try to keep my smile subtle as I climb inside with him, sliding the door shut behind us. “You’re so cute sometimes, Howell. Have I ever told you?” Dan doesn’t answer me - he just keeps blushing, and looks away. “Here - let me wash your hair,” I mumble, placing my hands on his shoulders and guiding him backwards into the shower’s stream.

I play my fingers gently through his hair as the water runs over him, making sure every strand is soaked. Then I grab the shampoo, work it into suds in my hands, and slip my fingers back through his hair. I carefully massage his scalp, being sure to reach every part of his hair, sliding my fingers to the ends. Then I tilt his head back and watch the water wash the bubbles away, leaving his hair far softer than before.

I smile. “There. Feeling better now you’re clean?” Dan nods. That blush won’t leave his cheeks. It’s too cute. It’s like the Dan I used to know.

“Let me…” Dan struggles, reaching his hands up to my head. “Let me do the same.”

I nod, obliging, and step forwards under the stream. I close my eyes as Dan’s fingers play through my hair, being cautious and careful like he might pull the strands away. I hum to myself as he works the bubbles through my hair, letting a smile grow on my face at the soothing touch.

Here’s the thing, the shameful confession: I do honestly enjoy this. I’m not acting, god knows I can’t do that. There’s no trickery here. I like being this close to Dan. I love this intimacy we share. I’ve never felt like this with anyone before and I’m not scared or ashamed to admit it.

Once Dan’s hands fall away, I tilt my head back and let the water wash through my hair, still enjoying the feeling.

I wrap my hands around Dan’s neck and pull myself closer, until our mouths are almost touching. “This is what you wanted, right?” I murmur quietly. I can practically hear him gulp. “This is what our showers are for?”

He nods quickly. “That would be nice.”

I close the distance, however small, between us, kissing his lips sweetly. And Dan practically falls into my hands, almost helplessly, letting me lead. It’s strange, this dynamic, but it feels so much better than the reverse. I like the way I can affect him like this.

I lead us both against the wall, leaning his back against its cold tiles, trying to deepen our kiss. He parts his lips invitingly and I comply, meeting his tongue with my own. Then, experimentally, I shift my leg between both of his and fervently rub my thigh into his crotch. The action makes him gasp into my mouth. He’s already getting hard, bless him.

I pull my lips away and instead reach down to his neck, placing gentle kisses along the sensitive skin of his throat. Dan lets out a weak whine at my touch.

“Phil…” he sighs, wrapping his arms around my middle. His head tilts to the side, granting me access. “You’re too… Please…” He encourages my body closer until my hips meet his, and both of us moan softly at the contact. “Take them…” he gasps, so I comply: moving briefly away to tug his underwear - or, more accurately, another pair of mine - down his legs, letting him kick them away. I look down: he’s so cute when he’s hard. It’s like he can’t help himself.

Then I surprise even myself.

I reach my hands down, wrapping round the backs of his thighs, and lift his legs up from the ground and wrap them tightly round my waist. Dan lets out a squeal at my gesture and grasps nervously at my back, holding on tightly.

“It’s alright,” I reassure him, pressing another kiss to his neck. “I won’t let you fall.”

I work our hips together, our bare erections rubbing together to produce the sweetest sensations and the sweetest sounds from his mouth. As I keep going, feeling my breath growing short, Dan’s already whimpering, his fingers digging desperately into my shoulder blades.

“Phil, please,” he cries. I keep working my mouth on his throat. I already know he likes it. I start letting groans and grunts slip from my lips, unable to ignore how strongly Dan’s flustered state affects me too. “Oh fuck… Phil…”

I let his name fall helplessly from my mouth. There’s no shame in it anymore. I revel in the way it tastes on my tongue.

Compared to me, he’s so damn vocal. It’s not that he’s loud. Words just seem to keep slipping off his tongue. And it’s cute.

He comes before I do, his thighs squeezing my waist, his fingers denting my back, his mouth spouting whimpers and almost sobs of my name by my ear. It takes me just a little longer, but the pure exhausted state that he’s in, all because of me, motivates me just that little bit more than before. I feel my fingers press firmly into his thighs as I reach my high, stilling and trembling against him. And as the familiar feeling runs through me again, I’m reminded of how much good occurs for me because of Dan. He’s the sole reason I ever feel like this. I’ve never been with anyone like this before, I’ve never moaned someone’s name or had them moan mine so sweetly in my ear. I’ve never been driven by someone else so impulsively. But it’s good. I can’t, I won’t, ever deny that he’s done a damn good job with me. Just a few days ago, I was scared to kiss him. And now look at us.

Strangely, I shiver at the thought.

We just watch TV after that, cuddled up on the sofa together.

It’s after ten when we finally make our way upstairs, already in our pyjamas, bundling ourselves up beneath the covers. We face each other and entangle our arms between us, our legs slipping almost naturally together, and as Dan rests his head against my chest and lets out a sweet little sigh, I close my eyes and let the beautiful rises in his chest lull me to sleep.

The next morning, we do the usual: breakfast and tea, brush our teeth - and then we go back to bed. Dan opens out a notebook, just like mine, in front of him and sits in my lap, his back against my chest, my back against the wall, my legs encircling his and my arms wrapped lovingly round his waist.

And, just because I can, I keep pressing little kisses to his neck.

“Stop,” Dan whines every so often. “Would you let me plan some videos in peace, please?”

"No, actually,” I laugh. “Because the less time you spend making videos is more you’ll spend with me.”

“Well, I can’t argue with that.”

I let him get on with his writing, instead deciding to play my fingers through his hair.

I watch him for a while: the concentration in his eyes on the words, the smooth unblemished state of his skin, the soft fluffiness of his hair, the sculptor-perfect shape of his jaw, and his bright chocolate-coloured eyes…

My heart beats loudly, filling my body with poisoned blood. I yearn for him. I pine for him, I know I do. I can’t escape that. This poison that fills me, it’s an invading force, but it tastes so sweet and feels so warm. It’s intoxicating. He’s just so cute, so handsome, so perfect. He’s too sweet and his lips are too soft and his eyes are too goddamn youthful and pretty. He’s too perfect to act like someone like me is out of his league.

I find my hand reaching round his head without my permission, turning his head (without his permission) towards me and quickly pressing our mouths together. I can’t help myself. He’s too addictive. He tastes too good.

His fingers close round my shirt and grasp it tightly, desperately. Dan pulls away. “Phil, no, I’ll… You know you’ll - ”

“Shhh,” I coo. “Let it happen. Please. I want to do this for you.”

Dan whines briefly, but obliges, letting me lead our heads back together. He doesn’t hesitate to allow my tongue inside, moaning softly as I carefully touch his own.

Then, being extra careful, I reach my hand down past the waistline of his joggers, slipping beneath the fabric, and as I curl my fingers round his length he lets out a quiet whimper against my lips.

He’s too sweet. I can’t help myself with him. It’s more than I ever thought he had planned. I thought he just wanted me to comply with his advances. But now… now I’m making the advances. It’s too twisted. But I can’t help it. He’s too much. I can’t keep away.

Fuck, I’m in too deep.

But drowning feels too good.

It doesn’t take him long. It just shows how quick I was to fall. No, I didn’t fall. He dragged me. No, not even that! He baited me and walked me into the water. Right? God, I don’t even know how he’s done it. I don’t know who to blame.

What even was my downfall; my weakness or my willingness?

_Fuck, I’m losing my mind._

Dan goes back to his notebooke after that.

After another hour, or so, he goes off to make me tea. When he comes back I take it gratefully out of his hand and don’t even hesitate to gulp it down. I need a distraction.

“I need to tell you, Phil,” Dan starts as he sits down in front of me on the bed. I nod, urging him to continue. “It’s Sunday tomorrow. I have work again on Monday, so I’ll be heading home later tonight.”

Oh.

“Don’t look so disheartened. You’ve done well this past week. It’s been so much fun. And it won’t be long before we’re reunited again.” He shows me a smile. “There’s just one more thing I want to do before we part ways tonight.”

I cock my head in interest. “Oh?” I ask. He’s staring at my mug. “And what would that be?”

Dan sets his mug aside, smiling to himself, and crawls over me, silently encouraging me to lie back against the mattress. He kneels above me, smiling in that strange way of his.

“Don’t worry,” he soothes me, taking the mug from my hand and setting it to the side. “Oh good. You finished that quick.” I nod. There’s this strange twisty feeling starting in my stomach. I pass it for butterflies. Dan brings his hand to my hair and runs his fingers over my scar, making me flinch. I forgot that was there. Why is he smiling so much?

“Dan?” I try to ask.

_Oh, woah._

I’ve gone light-headed.

Oh, shit. Not this again.

“Don’t worry,” I hear Dan slur. “You’ll be alright.”

My vision quickly fades to black.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: angst, hostage stuff, tying up, strong language, smut, (here’s the most non-con-ish thing you’ll get), violence, blood, knives**

**[sorry]**

Dan’s mumbling fills my ears like video static. I don’t know what he’s doing. Have I done something wrong?

Fuck, I can’t remember.

I stir in my place, confusion filling me. Is that a wall against my back? There’s rope around my wrists again. And round my legs and ankles too?

There’s no blindfold. I can open my eyes.

I do.

“Isn’t that right, Phil?” Dan sings to his camera - he’s holding a camera. He’s filming me like this?

I glance at his other hand - blood running cold. He’s got a knife.

I start to scream, unwillingly, already knowing it’s not going to help. But he’s connected to me, emotionally at least. He said he doesn’t like it when I cry. Hell, he’s even cried with me! So it might do something!

Dan stands up and walks over to me, which only makes me cry more. My mouth is covered, I already knew that much - but it’s not a cloth gag this time. It’s tape. Oh god, does he plan on keeping me like this for a while?

Dear god, what have I done wrong?

He leans down over me, which makes me cower further away. His knife-bound hand drops its utensil and runs its soft fingers along my hair. I stare up at him in confusion. But… but the knife. Why hold it just to drop it again? Was it just to make me scream?

“Go on,” Dan urges. His voice is harsher than usual. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” His fingers close round the knife again and I shut my eyes, afraid. What does he mean by that? Is it still hung up on the ‘rape’ and 'murder’ thing? Surely he knows that’s not what I wanted.

He taps the top of my head with the edge of the knife and runs it tauntingly down my forehead. I almost whimper in fear. My heart’s pounding like never before.

“Your skin’s gonna taste good,” he snarls. I feel my heart drop. He said he wasn’t psychotic like that. He can’t - ! That can’t be his plan! Not after everything we’ve done. He said he wouldn’t waste time. Why try and get my affections before something like this?!

“So yeah guys, umm, good luck! And I’ll speak to you later!” Dan’s turned away, now speaking to the camera. He winks suggestively with a clever little smirk.

I never realised he was so confident in front of the camera before. But of course I didn’t. He was always nervous.

Oh. I get it now. How stupid of me.

He was an actor in his younger years. Why would a camera worry him?

He was getting to me, that’s all the nervous attitude was really for. He’s been playing me all along.

Dan turns back to me and drops the knife, shining that wide smile now to me. He puts the camera on my desk and leans on the mattress next to me.

“It’s alright. You can calm down now,” he soothes me softly. One of his hand reaches down and unties the rope around my calves, freeing me. “It wasn’t real, Phil, if that’s what you’re wondering. I just needed some authenticity on you part.” He’s still smiling, but it isn’t malicious like it was before - he’s being kind again. I already feel myself relaxing. “Unlike me, you’re not so good an actor.”

He moves, crawling on top of me, until he’s climbed over to my other side. His hand holds onto my chin and makes sure I’m facing him. I still don’t know how to look at him. I can’t tell whether I should be scared or loving. I don’t even know if I can control the way I feel around him.

“I really should’ve used cloth…” Dan mumbles, tearing the tape from my mouth in a sharp pain-filled movement. Before I can scream he’s pressing his mouth over mine, kissing me softly like he always does, as his left hand ventures down my torso. He draws away. “Sorry. I tried to save you from the pain.” He shrugs his shoulders as his fingers work at my jeans. “Want me to help calm you down?” he sings, my jeans already undone.

My heart still pounds against my ribs, unable to settle down with him around. And for that, I nod my head quickly.

Dan shows me a smile, pushing my knees down and proceeding to tug my jeans as far down my thighs as they will go. “Don’t look so worried,” he soothes me. “You know I won’t hurt you.” I’m not too sure on that anymore. I know, right now, that he has no intention of hurting me. So why can’t I calm down?

He swipes his thumb gently over my lips and stares at them lovingly. “You’re so cute,” he sighs, leaning closer. “Let me enjoy you, Phil. I promise you’ll like it.” I nod, giving him permission, letting him do exactly what he wants.

His fingers stroke over the front of my boxers, and I flinch at the touch, letting out a quiet whimper. I’m too sensitive. I’m too exposed - he’s never done this when I’ve been so bound before. There seems to be this added element of exposure to this that I haven’t felt with him before. Although, there was a similar feeling two mornings ago, my second morning in his captivity.

Dan presses his lips against my own, trying to calm me down, and I relax into their softness. He’s gotten to know me so well - and this isn’t a fan thing. He’s worked my body, as weird as that sounds, so cleverly over the last five days. He knows how to kiss me, and how it calms me down. He knows my most intimate parts like no one ever has. I’m already used to him. His proximity isn’t scary anymore - it hasn’t been for a while. Honestly, it’s nice.

His hand slips under the waistband, his tongue slipping between my lips. His fingers wrap around me as delicately as they always do, the tip of his tongue stroking tenderly the tip of my own. A helpless moan passes between us. I know, and he knows, that’s he got me. It’s exactly what I was afraid of: this reality coming true for us. It’s so good though. I love the way he feels. I love how he can affect me. I love how he can make me come.

He keeps playing our tongues together even as I fall breathless, my hips rocking up into his hand. He could suffocate me like this, restrict me of oxygen through such a strange and simple act. My hands grip onto his neck - no, his jaw, trying to pull him closer. I want to pay him back. He swipes his thumb over the head of my cock and I moan into his mouth. He’s got me. I’m well past the line. I’ve jumped over with him, my arms bound but wrapped desperately round his neck.

His name falls from my lips, the sounds muffled by the walls of his mouth. I’m ecstatic, I’m lost, his hand running so well along me. My hips are shaking. I can’t deny it, I won’t deny it any longer.

I’m his.

I still as I come, crying bliss against his lips. And Dan rides me through, his fingers softening against me and drawing away.

He pulls our mouths apart, leaving me panting and desperate for breath. I want to thank him, the words are right there, but I can’t yet speak them until there’s oxygen in my lungs again.

Then he starts to chuckle.

“Oh, Phil,” he sighs, a great big smile on his face. “You really do amaze me.”

He turns my head round by the chin until I’m facing my desk. And there I see it, what he’s showing me. His camera’s still on.

“You know, I’ve enjoyed it. What a show you put on.” He’s still giggling as he presses the tape back over my mouth. I try crying out in confusion, telling Dan that I don’t understand. “I mean, shit - you really did it. You underestimated me.”

He reaches across my body and does something that sends a cold dread running through me: he picks up the knife.

“It hurt. Don’t get that part wrong: it really hurt to see you so defiant and so untrustworthy.” He grabs my wrists and holds them out until my elbows flatten out. My eyes are wide in panic, and fear of what he’s going to do. “You forgot that I’m a good actor, huh? And you forgot you’re not. You never intended to make a friendly video with me. You wanted to make a cry for help.”

Shit, that’s why he edited it. My heart is beating fast.

“Why do you think I asked you personally to make a video? I wanted to see it for myself. And it was worth it. Your hint with the cat ears was honestly inspiring. It took a long time to figure out, but I got there in the end.”

Oh shit. He couldn’t - he couldn’t have figured it out!

The cat ears. I put them on so subtly, I thought he wouldn’t notice.

There’s a  video, I made it back in August, called 'cat ears’. I talked about my uni project of making a music video based around stalking. I thought someone, hopefully Peej, might get my hint.

But no. Dan caught me. He figured me out.

Oh fuck, he’s going to hurt me so bad.

He brings the knife between my hands and cuts cleanly through the ties that restrained them, as though to demonstrate how sharp it is.

And then he presses its sharp blade against my throat.

“You had a choice, Phil. And you chose the bad one.” He snarls at me. His previous joy and happiness has been quickly wiped away. “But the way you did it really had me muddled, you know. I couldn’t figure out why you wouldn’t just run. But then I understood.” He loosened the blade, letting me breathe in sharply. “You were falling. You knew you couldn’t stay against me forever. You’ve fallen for me and you can’t deny it.” Dan leans his face down until our lips are almost touching. I can’t deny it. I knew that long ago.

“Maybe it was a diversion, was that the plan? You’d use your charm to keep me thinking you wanted me. Well, you weren’t completely lying when you promised me that, were you?” I gulp. He presses the knife harder into my flesh, until I’m sure it might break through. “Answer me. Use your fucking head.”

Gulping, I shake my head.

“But you never planned to stay with me. That was it, wasn’t it?” Terrified, I slowly nod my head. He pulls the knife away. My heart has never drummed this fast before. It’s like it’s fearing for its final beat.

After a moment, Dan scoffs, his amused little grin crawling back onto his face. “You can figure out how long I’ve suspected you, right? I’ve collected myself some footage over this week.” His eyes flinch to the camera. “When was the first, do you think? Just today?” I shake my head. Tears are welling in my eyes again. I hate it when he plays these games. “No, you’re right. Was it… yesterday?” Wait, the shower? I shut my eyes tightly. God, make him stop. “Ah - someone didn’t know about that one. No, it was our first video together. You didn’t want to involve yourself that day. But I made you. And you obliged. And now it’s on video. Don’t worry - I edited it out of the actual thing. I’m keeping these for myself. These little reminders of what we’ve done together, how much you loved it, and how much I can’t wait to come back.”

The tears fall down my face helplessly. The bad outcome. He won’t let me leave. He leans down and runs his tongue over my cheeks, clearing up my tears. He’s not going to hold back anymore. He’s going to show me everything.

“I tried, Phil,” he sighs almost sadly. “I wanted this to be good for you. But you rejected me. So I won’t be nice anymore.”

He grabs my right wrist in his right hand and pulls it out to my side.

“Open your eyes, Phil. It won’t be fun if you don’t watch.”

Reluctantly, I do as he says. There’s no point upsetting him anymore.

He’s grinning like an idiot. My eyes fall down to my arm, outstretched over the end of the bed. Dan brings the knife against my wrist and my heart leaps to my throat, I start crying in panic. But he doesn’t listen.

The knife slashes through my flesh and I scream out in pain, my cries muffled by the tape. I see my blood start to drip slowly to the floor. I can’t shut my eyes this time. I’m stuck staring in horror. He said he’d never hurt me.

“I lied, Phil,” Dan admits with a hint of giddiness in his voice. “About your blood before. I really am that psychotic.” He turns my wrist upwards and leans down, pressing his tongue flat against the stingy cut and licking up my blood. “I don’t know what it is about it,” he giggles in childish joy. “Your blood, I mean. It’s just so sweet. Especially when it’s warm.”

He turns back to me, his eyes far more ecstatic than I’ve seen them before, grabbing my chin, tearing off the tape, and forcing his mouth against my own. Oh fuck - he was holding it, my blood, on his tongue. He pushes it into my mouth and pulls away, slapping a hand over my lips.

“Doesn’t it taste good?” I simply cry, whimpering like a puppy. “Swallow it.” I obey. My body shivers. “So obedient. You want to be a good boy for me, Phil?” I can’t stop crying. He fists my hair. “Suck me off one more time.”

I cringe. Dan moves himself onto his knees before me, one-handedly unzipping his jeans and tugging them down. I can’t help but cry out, pushing my left hand against his hips. As he yanks my head back I feel more tears falling. “Dan, please - ”

“Shut it,” he snaps. He pulls his boxers down and I cringe, looking away.

“I don’t want to.” My heart is beating fast. My right wrist is throbbing, still dripping away. “I’m sorry. I want to be good. I - ”

He forces his fingers into my mouth and I realise, more tears forming, my mistake. He pulls my jaw down. “I’m sick of hearing you talk. Hopeless begging, useless lies. Cut it out. All you want to do is leave me.” I shut my eyes tightly as he leads my head back in front of him. “You know how much you’ve hurt me and you’re still so selfish.”

He forces himself into my mouth and his fingers pull away. I don’t stop crying. Dan seizes my arm and pulls it to his face, closing his lips around the cut. He practically moans at the taste. I can’t block it out. It’s horrible.

“You want it,” he gasps out. It’s not like it hurts - he’s quite small. “You wanted it before. I never even asked you to. You asked me.” He lets out a groan. My hand is dropped to the bed. “You got hard from it. Why would this be any different?”

I try to fall away into my thoughts. Maybe that might save me.

I was right about him. Goddammit, I shouldn’t have…

What? Which one? Gone against him? Let my body enjoy him? Not tried to run out? There’s no way of knowing what was the better option. No matter what, he wouldn’t have let anything happen that wasn’t to his liking. I’m a puppet in his hands: one wrong step, one wrong thought, and he tugs my binds tighter. There’s no hope for me anymore. There never really was.

“Look at me,” Dan demands. I comply. My eyes are still red and filled with tears, but I let him see. He stares down at me, with this strange indecipherable look of shock or something on his face, and then he falls backwards onto my legs. I let myself gasp, breathing deeply now that I actually can. “Gimme your hand,” Dan mumbles, grabbing my hand for himself. He throws himself forward, over my body, burying his face in my shoulder. He bends my fingers round his cock and pumps both our hands together, using me to masturbate himself. “Fuck,” he whines, his voice sounding almost weak. He nuzzles his nose against my neck. “Please, Phil, I need you.” His hand falls away from mine, leaving me in control.

I comply.

I run my hand along his length, feeling how ridiculously hard he’s made himself from god knows exactly what today. But, as I do this, I feel how quickly overwhelmed Dan is. He’s shivering at my touch, with these weak whimpers and whines falling from his lips. His hands are clutching the collar of my jacket desperately, helplessly, and every so often he moans out a small “Please” or “Phil” which, shamefully, spurs me on. He needs me. And he can’t just take it from me - he needs me to want to give it to him. It makes me feel warm inside. And I know how wrong that is, because he’s the one that slashed my wrist, but I can’t help it. The worst part? I let this happen. I let myself want him like this. It’s all my fault.

As he comes, he practically squeals my name against my neck, twitching helplessly in my hand. And then he falls limp, flopping against my body, and to my surprise I find myself wrapping my arms around him, holding him close. From there, the bleeding scar on my right wrist glares up at me, and I remember exactly where I am.

“Dan,” I whisper by his ear. He’s still panting breathlessly against my throat. “I’ll miss you.” He lifts his head, staring at me with wide, blank eyes. I swallow nervously. “When you go tonight. I’ll miss you until you come back.” Strangely, he cocks his head. “You know I can’t lie as well as you. Do you think I’m telling the truth?” To my relief, Dan nods his head, although his eyebrows do curve into a frown. “But you’re right: right now I want nothing more than to run away from all this. That’s only because you’ve scared me. But I know, in the long term, that this will be worth it. I know now what you want. I’ve learnt not to run. I don’t want to upset you like this again.” My heart trembles nervously within my chest. “Because I know you don’t like being this upset either.”

Dan nods at that.

I take my arms from round his back and hold them out between us. He stares at them confused.

I breathe in sharply. “Take them,” I cry. “Chain me up. Make sure I can’t run. Please,” I beg. “I want this. I want to stay.”

To my surprise, Dan leans away from me. “I don’t understand you…” he whines. “What do you really want right now?”

I sigh, almost defeatedly. “Now, at this moment, I want to cry and run where you’ll never find me. But that’s never going to happen, and we both know that.” Dan nods, biting his bottom lip nervously. He can’t feel as nervous as I do right now. “So I’ll be considerate. I want you to make this work: make me love you, Dan. Make us happy together. And we won’t know pain ever again.”

Dan continues to stare at me, and I already know what’s on his mind, what words are on his tongue. So I pick up the knife with trembling fingers, hearing the words ring through my mind.

_Prove it._

I breathe in nervously, holding out my left arm and pushing down my sleeve.

_Prove that I can trust your word._

I hold the blade against my flesh, untouched, unharmed.

_Please, I have to be sure._

I pull the blade across my wrist, feeling the sharp sting of pain as it breaks the skin. Dan lets out a gasp at what I’ve done. As blood starts to bead and break through the cut, and my hand starts to throb, I hold my wrist out to him, trying my best to smile.

“Go on,” I say. “Don’t waste it.”

Dan doesn’t hesitate to grab my arm and press his mouth against the cut, and I can practically feel him suckling. It’s almost endearing. He looks so cute, staring up at me like that. But if I try putting what’s he doing into words, he wouldn’t look so cute.

He draws away after a while, gasping for air and releasing my arm from his hold. “Thank you,” he mumbles, then shyly wipes his mouth.

I smile back as well as I can. “I’m ready,” I tell him. “Do whatever you need to do.”

Dan smiles to himself, joyfully, like a child, as he fixes my clothes and ties the rest of the rope tightly around my legs - he gets through a lot of it, I’ve noticed. I wonder where he’s been keeping it, and where he gets it from. Then, once he’s done with that, he grabs some bandages and starts to wrap them round my wrists.

“I have a lot of precautions set up in this house,” he tells me, his gaze focused on the task of bandaging up my cuts. “So I doubt you’d get away even if you tried. I can’t come back until next weekend, so if I tie you up completely, you’ll starve.” I nod in understanding - that’s why he’s leaving my wrists untied. “You can cook and eat and wash and dress yourself, whatever you want. But there’s just one more thing.” He tugs my arms sharply, asking for my attention, so I look at him expectantly. “I’ve set up cameras throughout the house. I’ll be watching you at all times. I can control your internet as well, and YouTube, like all social-networking sites, has been blocked. Your only contact is me on Skype. I want to call every night like we used to. Okay?” I nod in understanding.

Then, he sighs, and presses a kiss to each of my bandaged wrists. “Please don’t think I’m being mean. I’m just trying to be careful. You know I can’t help it. You know I can’t be without you.” I nod confidently. “You can’t even make any videos anymore. But don’t worry - we’ll make some at the weekends.”

I reach my hands to his face, cup his jaw carefully, and lean down to press my lips gently against his cheek. Dan hums happily in response. “It’s alright. Everything will be fine. I trust you.”

He puts his hands over mine and grasps them tightly. “I love you,” he gasps suddenly. “So much.”

I put my lips against his this time, feeling him relax quickly into the gesture. “I know. Hopefully, soon, I’ll love you too.”

The last I see of him is that adorable little smile. And then silence fills the house.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, sexual scenes (masturbation)**

I roll onto my front and groan happily, tucking my hands under my chest and resting my cheek against the softness of my pillow.

It’s Sunday morning - the day after Dan left to make his way back home. And it’s bliss. No stress, no worries, no reason to not lounge in bed for as long as I want.

I don’t have a job. I finished my Masters course earlier in the year. I don’t have any family at home. I literally have zero obligations right now. In fact, if any, I have YouTube, but Dan has banned me from the internet. So I have nothing to do except lounge and forget my worries.

I sigh, letting myself smile. Well, I can certainly get used to this.

I’ve decided to change my mindset about this whole Dan situation. Let’s not worry about what happened last night. Let’s forget the whole week, actually. Start afresh. No - nothing has changed. We’re just going to call every night like we always do. Everything will be fine. Besides; it’s not like Dan can harm me now, is it?

Except he’ll come back. He mentioned the weekend.

Okay, new mindset again: let’s take every moment as it comes. No stressing about the past or the future. Just the present.

Got that?

I hum, confirming it to myself.

Everything is fine.

After god knows how long, I finally decide to get myself out of bed.

I roll myself onto my back and pull off the covers, and - ah. Yeah. Rope. I ’d forgotten about that. He bound my calves tightly with what looks like as much rope as he could find. There’s hardly any skin showing. My legs are consequently bare, and I remember what Dan had said:

_“Now, I didn’t think I’d have to say this, but don’t ever move the ties I put on you. They’re there for your own good, okay?”_

What am I supposed to do for clothes and showers then?

Ugh. This kid is so difficult to please sometimes.

I put my hands to the floor first and drag myself out of bed, crawling at stupid snail speed to the bathroom.

This is just silly. Dan’s no idiot - that’s obvious. But if I managed to find a way out of this house, bound calves aren’t going to stop me getting far before he can get a train up here. No, these serve a different function.

_“… don’t ever move the ties I put on you…”_

Oh, how childish. He just wants me to obey. There’s nothing more to it.

He must love laughing at the ways he makes me dance.

I drag myself downstairs, feeling pretty silly for it, but hey - at least I can move. He’s granted me that much. And no one is going to see me like this anyway.

I don’t rush myself in unlocking each stairgate and making my way to the kitchen. Once I push open the door, I’m met with a strange sight - there’s a bowl and cereal box on the kitchen floor, and next to them, a note. I crawl over and take a look: Dan’s handwriting.

_‘Hope you have a nice morning. Hopefully things aren’t too lonely when I’m gone. There’s milk in the fridge (I thought you might struggle to reach the cupboards with your legs tied up) and there’s a pizza in there too for later._

_Make sure you’re on your laptop for 5pm - I look forward to seeing you again._

_Love, Dan.’_

I’m touched. He can really be sweet sometimes. I guess I should be thankful for that - my captor isn’t a complete sadist.

I grab the milk from the fridge and enjoy a fresh bowl of cereal before climbing back upstairs. When was the last time I had a shower? Was it Friday? Hmm, maybe I should have one now. After all - I have a lot of time to kill.

I drag myself into the bathroom, and I huff in frustration upon arrival - I’d dragged my knees along the floor for long enough. I reach my hands up to the sink, grab onto the side, and pull my body up, balancing myself on two feet. Ah, I sigh contently. That feels better. Hopefully this won’t be a permanent measure.

Brushing my teeth turns out to be a difficult task, as I figure out - I have possibly the worst balance in the world. But, somehow, I make it through unscathed and still standing.

Then I turn to the shower.

Alright. Now this will be fun.

I take off my shirt easily, but there’s a dilemma with my underwear. I can either leave them on or cut them off. And, well, when I look at the adorable pleading eyes of Pikachu, I can’t bear to destroy them. So I leave them on.

It feels weird, getting into this shower now by myself. And that itself is even weirder: I only shared this twice with Dan, so surely I can’t already be more accustomed to showering with him than the way I’ve showered for over ten years.

I shake my head, ignoring those thoughts.

It seems my philosophy of living in the present isn’t going to work. The present is too dependent on what’s happened in the past and what’s still to come. Fuck - can’t I just stop overthinking things? I’m going nowhere!

I decide to stay on the floor, with my legs sprawled out in front of me, as I pull the showerhead down and turn it on. I drench myself quickly, ignoring the ties around my calves. Then I grab the soap and work it thoroughly through my hair. Cleanse yourself, Phil. Whatever that means. Whatever needs cleansing. Whatever I can wash away.

My hands move to my neck, the sensation sending a shiver down my spine. It’s too familiar, too nostalgic.  _He rubs in little circles along my skin, being firm but also very careful with me_. I keep going, trying to keep my mind straight. I move to my arms, scrubbing my supposed bicep and forearm, then work my other arm in the same way.

I let the shower wash it all away, taking a few deep breaths.

I make some more bubbles in my hands and decide to clean my thighs - or as much of them as I can reach.  _Dan’s hands finish their work of my stomach and slip down to my thighs, carefully pushing them an inch further apart, and as he touches the sensitive inner flesh I let out a helpless gasp_. The rope tugs back on my calves, reminding me that I can’t move them very far. I really hope these don’t have to stay on for long.

Oh. Now that’s strange. I know it’s not me - not my hands, at least - but there’s this faintly familiar feeling of touch against my skin. It’s like a small breeze across my cheek, or someone’s breath along my lips. It’s even like, if I believed in such things, a ghostly touch. _A ghosting touch of his fingers up my spine causes me to shiver, and the ghost of his lips against my own makes my breath hitch._  He’s here - Dan’s here with me. But no, of course he isn’t. Not really. But, in a way, he is. I’ve brought him here.

Oh god. What does that mean for me?

 _“Don’t be silly,”_  I hear him whisper against my ear. His lips graze my neck and a gasp leaves my mouth. He can’t be here. But it’s too real, too familiar.  _“You don’t really want me to stop, do you?”_  I shake my head without thinking, knowing I’ve fallen too far with him. His hand reaches down my torso and pushes between my thighs, and as he presses against my crotch my body jerks forwards in surprise. I’m too hard already - fuck, since when was I hard?  _“Look at you. You’re so easy. I bet you’ve always wanted this: to belong to someone else.”_  He starts to untie the rope around my legs, pushing them wide apart once they come loose. Dan brings one hand to my hair and the other slips under my boxers, causing me to cry out. _“Fuck. Can you even hear yourself? Such a slut!”_  His hand runs along me quickly, knowing I’m already too far gone and intent on dragging me deeper.  _“You know you shouldn’t like this. You should be trying to escape. But what have you done? Fallen for your fucking captor. What kind of weak, desperate piece of crap does that?”_

I can’t stop moaning. It’s bad, it’s foolish, it’s dangerous and wrong. But I can’t help it. He’s too good to me. It feels perfect and I can’t deny that. I even start calling his name, desperate to ask for more - fuck, I’ll beg if I have to.

 _“You’re in too deep, Phil,”_  Dan continues to tell me.  _“Have you even realised how bad you have it? Have you realised what you’re doing right now? Tell me:”_  I practically gulp in worry.  _“Do you want to fuck me?”_  My heart jumps anticipatingly in my chest.  _“No, here’s a better question: how badly do you want to fuck me?”_

No, no, stop thinking about it! That’s what he wants you to do! He wants you wanting it, like you want this right now.

Fuck! I can’t think straight! I can’t figure him out when I don’t even trust what I’m perceiving.

 _“That’s it,”_  Dan laughs, his warm breath lightly skimming the flesh of my throat.  _“Lose your mind. Don’t you think that’s exactly what I want?”_  I whimper helplessly. He’s got his thumb against the head of my cock, and he’s toying with me.  _“Give up reason and doubt. And fall right into my arms. Know nothing but me for the rest of your life. You’ll be mine, Phil. Is that what you want?”_

No! Surely not! I… I don’t even know anymore!

I’m already shaking. I’m too far gone, too lost in this mess. He’s too good with me. No - I’m too easy for him.  _“Then tell me: why would you dream this up, huh?”_  My heart’s beating too fast. I can’t speak. I don’t - I don’t know. _“You want me. That’s all this is. You’re desperate for me and you’re not even ashamed of it. In fact, you’re actually getting off on it.”_

No… I’m not… You’re lying!

 _“Do you want to come then, since you’re so desperate?”_  I cry out weakly, unable to stop now if I tried.  _“Go on then. Come for me. Let me know how much I can affect you.”_

I find myself complying, spilling onto my hand, heat pulsing through my body in that addictively familiar way - the way I’ve only felt with Dan.

And then it’s over. His voice is no longer with me, and I open my eyes to find my own hand fisting my hair and the other round my cock. My heart grows heavy with dread and guilt, and I instantly feel horribly sick. Before I know it, there are tears falling from my eyes. I try and catch my breath.

No. This can’t be real. I can’t have just done that.

My head falls into my hands, sniffles and whimpers falling helplessly from my mouth, being muffled by the shower’s powerful stream.

He’s got me. He’s not even here, but he’s ensnared me. I don’t know who I am anymore, or who I was - what parts of me are the real Phil Lester. I can’t tell what’s real and what’s not. No, that’s wrong. Because I have to admit it now: my feelings are real. I’ve fallen for my captor.

The need to vomit swells in my stomach as I tie the rope around my legs again. I’ve tried to wash out my boxers as well as I can, but I know, even if nothing’s there, the horrid shameful feeling is going to stay inside them all the same.

After that, I sit in my room, avoiding my bed, and spend the rest of the afternoon inventing and planning as many videos as I can.

I look up, after a long time, and notice the clock: 4:37pm. My heart fills with something heavy and awkward. I have to get ready now.

I pull myself to my drawers and grab the biggest jumper I own, slipping it on gratefully. And, since no trousers will fit because of the rope, I opt for a large blanket instead to cover myself up. I brush my hair quickly and style it sloppily. He’s probably seen me worse, after all.

I bundle myself up by my desk chair, balancing my laptop on top of it, and wait for it to switch on. Once it’s logged on, I find myself surprised to see the internet already connected. I glance at the clock in the corner: 4:42pm. Huh. I didn’t think Dan would leave such a risk like that - of me using the internet before we call.

 _“Oh, Phil,”_  Dan’s voice ghosts my ear.  _“You’re really thick sometimes. You should know I like to test you.”_  I cock my head, thinking.  _“Ah. That’s right. I’m probably tracking your internet instead.”_

Of course he is. He’s not careless. I can’t underestimate him - I won’t make the same mistakes.

But, even so, I start to think of something new: could I test him?

Now, that would be a very dangerous game. But he doesn’t seem insane - there should be methods to his madness, a sort of logic, especially some form of pattern in the way he treats me and how he thinks. It seems like my only possible option: if I can figure him out, I can find the loophole, and wiggle myself free. I have to find a way that means he won’t follow me again, and drag me down, and torment me far worse than he already has.

I hold my arms up slightly before my eyes, watching the sleeves drop slightly, revealing the bandages he had tied around my wrists. I reach a hand up to my head and brush my fingers against the bruise that still lingers.

I don’t know Dan. I don’t know his temperament, or his empathetic abilities, or the extent of his violent capabilities. So I have to tread carefully. But I also don’t want to stick around for too long.

There’s one huge setback with this plan: it’s going to take time. And it’s not just that every day I’ll be a risk of his bad side. I’m already aware of how quickly he can gain my favour. It’s possible, as much I don’t want to admit it, that if I don’t figure a way out of this before too long, I might fall willingly under his spell.

A blue pop-up flashes on my screen and the familiar tune of Skype starts playing from my laptop. Dan’s young face appears on my screen - his little profile picture from months ago. My heart starts thumping anxiously. This will be the first time being on call with him when I’m seeing him in a different light.

Reluctantly, I hit 'Answer’. The music drops away.

“Hi Phil!” He waves at me excitedly with a big grin on his face. He’s wearing one of my shirts. “Oh, it’s so good to see you again! What have you been doing all day without me?”

I try showing him a smile too, admittedly feeling quite relieved to see his face again. “Not much. I had breakfast, had a shower, wrote down some - ”

“Oh yeah! I wanted to talk to you about that, actually.”

I frown, confused. “Talk about what?”

Dan’s smile twitches briefly. “Your shower.”

My heart’s starting to panic, sending blood rushing worriedly through my body. “W-what about it?”

“Well. That’s not good, is it? You don’t even know what you’ve done.” Nervously, I gulp. “You removed your binds, Phil. Don’t you remember me telling you never to do that?”

My blood suddenly runs cold. “H-how do you - ?”

At those words, Dan starts to laugh to himself. “Oh, silly. Did you forget about my cameras? I told you I had them everywhere.”

And, at that, my face flushes bright red. “Oh god - you saw me?!”

Dan is thrown into a fit of giggles, rocking back and clapping his hands. “This is just too good! You really didn’t know? Incredible! Let me tell you - what a show that was to watch!”

I throw my head into my hands and let out a long, loud, awkward groan.

“You know, since seeing that, I had to know what brought it on. It looked so sudden from my angle.” I just shake my head in disbelief, wishing he’d stop talking, wishing he hadn’t said anything. “But then I kept watching, and I understood. After all - you wouldn’t stop calling my name.” Oh god. “So, Phil. Do you have anything you’d like to say for yourself?”

Still, I just shake my head.

I practically hear Dan pout. “Are you sure? I’m eager to hear what you’re thinking.” I keep silent. “Alright then - I’ll tell you what I’m thinking.” My head shoots up at that. He’s going to what? “I think you were right. You really do miss me. So it seems that I should trust your word far more than I currently do. Would you agree?” I just stare at him. “Hmm. Anyway. The way you miss me isn’t quite what I thought you meant at the time. I assumed you’d miss spending time with me. But actually, I had it all wrong - it’s your body that misses mine.” My cheeks flush again and I glance away. “Ah. Now that’s interesting - you resonate with that one. So you agree?”

Again, I don’t answer him. I can’t bring myself to admit it, not in front of him.

“So, tell me:” I involuntarily gulp at those words, my heart thumping audibly in the stretch of silence before Dan finishes. “How far did your imagination stretch?” Oh, god. My stomach begins to twist awkwardly. “I’m too curious - were you remembering things we’ve previously done? Were you making up a new scene? Oh! Was it me or you who had their hand round your dick?”

I practically growl. “Stop it.”

“Go on and tell me.”

I sigh. “Please, do you have to embarrass me?”

Dan’s face softens at those words, and he slumps back against the wall - I think he’s sitting on his bed, like he normally does when we call. “I’m not trying to embarrass you. I’m curious. Don’t you see how thrilled I am that you’ve gotten off to the thought of me? I couldn’t ever dream of you doing that. This is an incredible thing that’s happened! You shouldn’t feel embarrassed - you should be happy! You finally want me!” He smiles, far brighter than he ever has before. He’s really happy about this.

So, with my body trembling, I decide to appease him. “Alright…” I mumble nervously. “I… in the shower, I… it’s like a mixture of everything you said. I kept remembering that first day, our first shower, and what you made me feel… and that got me started. Then… then it was like you were here, with me. And that wasn’t a memory.” Dan leans forwards, his eyes wide, intrigued. “And, umm…” My face flushes red, so I look away again. “It was you who… yeah.”

I dare a look at the screen again, and see Dan smiling proudly. “You cute thing. You’re really embarrassed about this, aren’t you?” I nod my head. “Well stop it. I want you thinking about me like that. Listen to me.” I obey his unspoken command and lift my head to him. “I do it all the time. I’ve imagined you and I doing a lot of things together, and I don’t regret anything I did with those thoughts. So relax, Phil.” I comply, letting out a tense breath and rolling my shoulders. “Because I want to keep this going - this kind of talk. I want you to tell me: what kinds of things do you want to do with me?”

It seems the blush won’t leave me tonight. “I… Do we have to?”

Dan scoffs. “Are you opposed to the idea?” I pause for a moment, wondering what reaction I might get, before deciding to shrug my shoulders. “Huh. I see. So we still have an issue.” I stare at him worriedly. “Your body wants me, but your mind doesn’t. Is that what’s going on?”

Suddenly, upon hearing him say that, in a tone so displeased, my throat goes dry. “Dan, please, it’s not like that.”

“Then enlighten me, Phil.”

I swallow nervously. “I told you before: I’m still trying to love you.”

He laughs mockingly at that. “Bullshit. That’s the involuntary part you were talking about - meaning your body. And, in that regard, you’ve fallen head over heels for me. No - ” He leans forwards, glaring at me suspiciously. I shouldn’t have said anything, I should have just answered him. “It’s the voluntary part that’s the problem now. You don’t want to want me.”

My blood drains from my face and my fingers in fear. No matter what I say now, he won’t believe it. Fuck, this is bad.

“Although,” Dan sighs, slumping back again, “I guess that’s my fault. I haven’t been the kindest to you, have I? It might be terrifying, from your perspective. You’re locked up and tied up by someone who’s not even with you anymore. And I’m not exactly giving you much wiggle room, am I?”

I don’t say anything to that.

“But this is a real problem, Phil. Not for you, but for me.” I resist the urge to frown and cock my head in confusion. No, of course he’s right. He’s the one in love with me. If I don’t love him back, it’s going to really hurt him. I can’t even know if the pain he inflicts on me for my objection is anything like what he must feel.

But oh, I was slightly wrong.

Dan shuffles back across the mattress, bringing most of his body into the frame, and my eyes go wide at the sight he’s showing me. His hand is reaching down to his crotch, where he’s already sporting something. He presses his palm against himself and lets out a quiet moan.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day. All the things we did, how quickly you changed. I couldn’t help but start imagining other things that we might do together. And then… Then the thought came to mind of us… of you…  _fuck_ …” He rocks his hips up against his hand and lets out a satisfied sigh. “The first time was a few hours ago. And since then, I’ve imagined it in so many different ways, with different build-ups. Oh Phil,” Dan cries. “I need you. I’m already desperate for you.”

Anxiety starts to boil the blood in my veins. I gulp involuntarily. I think I’m starting to sweat.

Fuck, he looks really good right now.

“ _Fuck_ , I need to see you. Please. I want to see you hard. Let me see and hear what sex with you would be like.” My breath catches in my throat at those words. Surely he can’t mean that. “I want us both to imagine it. Together. Tonight. I want you to feel the same. That’s why it’s a problem, Phil, if you don’t want me. Because I want you to fuck me someday.”

All I can do is gulp.

Dan’s eyes are closed, like he’s fallen into his own mind. And I just sit there, watching. “I want you on top of me, kissing me, taking care. I want you in control. I want to trust you.” He lets out a quiet moan and tilts his head back. “Shit, it’s never been this vivid.”

My face has flushed red, and I quickly look away. “I don’t want to talk about this,” I mumble shamefully. “Please, Dan. I feel sick.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle. “That’s your fault. Just let yourself enjoy it, will you? And make our lives so much easier.”

Then, to my shock and excitement, I find my body filling with strength, with a long deep breath, and, with my heart in my mouth, I defiantly say: “No.”

And, for a moment, there’s only silence.

Then Dan laughs, shaking his head.

“Whatever. I’ll deal with you later.”

And the call ends.

I take a moment to clutch my chest and take some deep breaths, forcing down the urge to vomit here and now.

What… what just happened? What did I do? Was that good? I… fuck. I’m so confused.

After sitting there for far too long, staring worriedly at my silent laptop screen, I change out of my shirt and climb back into bed.

I stare against the ceiling, the one I’ve known so well.

Everything I know is a lie. Everything I see, everything I think and perceive, all of my past - a lie. Dan was never that sweet and innocent teenager. I was never safe from the moment he laid eyes on me. This ceiling, and this bed, is no longer a place of sanctuary. And my mind, and my dreams, are poisoned with thoughts of him.

So it’s true: I’m losing my mind.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, hints of psychological manipulation, angst**

I should have slept well last night. But I didn’t. I can’t sleep well when he’s in my head. There’s always something off about him, something that makes my brain itch with worry. He’s too unpredictable; it’s impossible to tell whether or not he’s in a good or bad mood with me.

 _“There are two outcomes to this week,”_ he had said. _“Either you’re considerate, and you let me love you. Or you’re difficult.”_

Well, I’ve certainly been difficult.

But haven’t I let him love me? I let him do so much to me. I encouraged his feelings for me, and I helped him fulfil them. I was considerate, too.

 _“Oh, Phil,”_  I hear him chuckle against my ear.  _“You really think I’m that rational? I’m a psycho. You’ve said it yourself.”_  I look down at the bandages around my wrists.  _“I want what I want. I’m not going to compromise. After all - I have the high ground here. What I say goes; don’t you agree?”_

I growl, shaking my head and rolling myself out of bed.

No. You’re wrong. Last night was a victory for me, between us. I said no and you let me have my way. Even if that’s temporary, I still won a little something. You might have the high ground, but I can still stand my ground. So I’m going to call the shots. I’m not going to be considerate anymore. You don’t like difficult? I’ll show you difficult.

I reach my hands down my legs, tugging on the rope that binds me, that he bound me with, until it comes apart, and I throw it against the wall.

_That name. It came up again._

**_danisnotonfire_ **

_It was almost creepy by this point. He was always liking, sharing, and commenting on all my videos, not to mention all my tweets and my facebook statuses. I’d looked him up after the first few times:_

**_danisnotonfire_ **

**_Dan Howell (Daniel James Howell)_ **

**_17 years old_ **

_Now, he was finishing his A-Levels. He lived in Berkshire - I wasn’t sure if that was far or close to me, really, considering I had a few ‘fans’ as such in America as well._

_The concept of him was strange. Not only was he dedicating his time to me - a pointless and complete stranger on the internet - but he was also so young. He was in Year 13, whilst I was finishing my Masters degree at university. There’s about four years between us, and that fact made me awkward about my presence on the internet._

_It was late June that I finally decided to message him, so he had only just turned eighteen, which made me feel even worse. Relatively speaking, he’s just a kid, and I’m an adult. I hardly act like it, but the premise still stands._

**_AmazingPhil_ ** _: Hey there! It’s Dan, isn’t it? You commented on my last video about advice for editing videos, but I can’t reveal my secrets to the world. So private message seemed to be the way to go, if that’s alright ^_^_

_The reply was almost instantaneous._

**_danisnotonfire:_ ** _That’s more than alright!! OMG!! I can’t thank you enough!!_

_From that, straight away, I knew he would be just as adorably immature as me._

I don’t do much on Tuesday. I don’t shower. I don’t eat. I don’t even stay in my own room - in fact, I’ve locked it from the outside and instead decided to camp in my parents’ bedroom. It’s not like they’ve used it in years. I can’t see a camera in here, not around the walls, not tucked away in any bookcase or corner, but I’m certain there’s one in here. As much as I know about Dan, when it comes to me, he won’t allow himself any blind spots.

When it comes to five o'clock, I turn on my laptop. Whilst I did consider ignoring any calls from him, I decided that sitting through it could be a better idea. For one, he can’t hurt me. And two, if I ignore him, he might skip school to come up here and visit me. Besides: I’m not dropping the act this time. I won’t back down from him.

My desktop loads and I frown at the sight: no internet connection. He’s taken it away today.

Hmm. Maybe he’s already looked through the footage of my day.

But it doesn’t stop there. 5pm passes, and I still have no internet. Quarter passed, and nothing’s changed. Half passed, and still, nothing.

I feel like grinning to myself. So he’s ignoring me too? Have I affected him, then?

My eyes glance back to the screen - he’s turned the internet on.

A message comes through.

**Dan Howell:** _you better start eating Phil_

The internet cuts off again.

I lift my head to the onlooking room and smile, knowing I’ve definitely triggered something in him.

I spend that night in my parent’s bed, my stomach whining quietly.

_I didn’t know why I was nervous. After all, I couldn’t imagine being in Dan’s shoes right now. There was nothing to feel nervous about._

_We’d been talking non-stop for a month now. Though that might not sound like long, I had actually reached the end of my postgraduate course and Dan had the whole of summer free after finishing his exams, so we literally had been talking non-stop - through the night until dawn. It felt like we’d known each other for far longer than just one month._

_I clicked onto his profile, smiling at his photo (apparently he was attempting to impersonate a model 'as a joke’), and, with a slight tremble in my fingers, I clicked 'Call’._

_A few seconds passed in silence, my heart in my throat. It wasn’t that I was scared. It wasn’t that I was desperate to make a good impression. It was just… Well, honestly, I hadn’t felt so close to someone, so meaningful to another person, for a long time. To Dan, I was something special. I was important to him. And I suppose, in a way, it could be said that there was some love in it. Of course, it wasn’t anything grand or romantic. Dan was straight. Normal people like him from posh schools always were. And besides - I didn’t see him that way. I didn’t tend to fall for people so easily._

_The call was accepted, and before I could even try to prepare myself, Dan’s picture was already covering my screen. He was hiding behind a pillow, his fingers gripping it tightly._

_I showed him a smile. “Hey,” I chuckled. “Are you okay there?”_

_After a second, Dan started to bring down the pillow, revealing his face to me. He was smiling wider than I’d ever seen him before, and his eyes were wide and impish. He looked just like his profile picture.  "Hi Phil,“ he sang excitedly. "Sorry about that. I’ve never used a video call before.”_

_“That’s alright.” I sighed, relieved. All that anxious build-up was just silly. From text to video, there’s hardly a difference really. It’s still just him and me. And that’s not scary._

Wednesday goes the same.

I stay in my pyjamas all day. I grab a light snack from the kitchen and decide to camp in the living room, playing on my PlayStation since I know that will kill my boredom. I can’t play any online games, as expected.

By 4pm, my PlayStation suddenly connects to the internet, and with that alone I already know what’s happening.

A message comes through.

 **danisnotonfire** :  _wanna play together?_

I switch off my TV and head upstairs, unable to wipe the smile from my face. He misses me. That’s even better than him being angry.

Laying in bed that night, the house feels strangely silent - more so than usual, considering I’m used to it. Maybe it’s that thing again, my stupidly being accustomed to Dan’s presence. I huff at that thought and turn on my side, clutching my duvet in fists against my chest.

 _“Oh, how sweet,”_   Dan giggles beside me. I try and shake him away.  _“You miss me, don’t you?”_

Shut up, I growl to myself.

 _“You can stop trying to deny it now. I already know how you feel about me. I’ve been convinced of it from the start.”_  I pull my covers firmly over my head.  _“I think you’re loving this, trying to make me angry. Because you already know I’m coming back in a few days. If you already know that I’ll hurt you, does that mean you want it? Are you a masochist?”_

Shut up! It’s lies, it’s stupid, it’s not true. I can’t let him torment me like this. He’s not even here!

I feel the ghost of his arms wrap round me, holding me, like he’s got me.

I shrug him off and roll onto my front, curling my body away from him. And I quickly feel his presence disappear. I sigh out in relief at my isolation.

_“Dan, come on. Stop hiding! I know you’re there!”_

_The sound of shuffling came through the speakers of my laptop, followed by Dan’s squeaky voice squealing “N-no!”_

_I giggled, far too amused by his adorableness. “It’s alright. There’s no need to be so nervous of what I’ll say.” Dan still stayed hidden from my view. I let myself smile. “Well, you might not be in shot, but you can still hear me.”_

_He let out a noise of alarm and ran up to his laptop. I showed him a sweet grin as he came into view._

_The video fell away._

“End” _Skype told me._

_I laughed at that. I called him again. He answered, smiling and giggling to himself._

_“Well played,” I praised. He covered his face with a pillow - a sight I’d become very used to. “So will you let me talk now?”_

_Dan stared at me and slowly nodded his head. He wasn’t letting up on that pillow. “Please don’t tell me it’s bad,” he mumbled worriedly._

_I was shocked. “Why would I say that? It’s not bad at all! It’s a great video!”_

_Dan groaned, unsure. “But it’s my first…”_

_“That’s even more impressive,” I reassured him. “Even if there are odd awkward bits, or cringey moments, it’s only your first try. It’s supposed to be almost terrible at this point. Keep making videos and you’ll get better and better!”_

_Dan lowered the pillow down from his face and showed me a small smile. “I plan on it. I want to be as good as you.”_

_So I smiled back. “I’m not very good, but thanks. I’ve been going for, umm, three years now? And you’ve just started. Don’t compare yourself to me too much.”_

_We returned to normal conversation after that. And good thing too: I hadn’t actually seen his video. I knew how bad it would be. He’s so awkward and cringey, even with me, so god knows how he’d deal with a camera. But I couldn’t tell him I hadn’t watched it: with how much he looks up to me, it would break his heart. After all, it’s not like YouTube is his chosen career path. It’s just a hobby for him. He told me himself - he’s looking at Law. I won’t have to keep this up for too long. It’s not like we’ll be friends forever._

Thursday runs the same. The days almost blur together. There’s too many minutes in a week.

I wonder if there are any blindspots in his surveillance system?

I sigh to myself in defeat. Even in there were, I can’t even see where his cameras are. So that’s a lost cause.

 _“Maybe you like being watched,”_  Dan hums into my ear. I shake my head and walk to the bathroom, trying to ignore it. I take a moment to brush my teeth and wash my face. These are okay to clean - it’s the shower I’m not using.

He stays relatively quiet as I get myself ready for bed - and by that, I mean that his presence doesn’t leave me, and he seems to be humming to himself. Perhaps he’s trying to aggravate me. If that’s the case, then it’s really hard to ignore.

 _“You know what you miss?”_  he tells me as I’m curling up in bed. I try not to groan as he makes his presence known again.  _“You miss having someone to sleep with. You liked snuggling with me.”_  I draw the covers over myself.  _“But here’s a question: who should really be the big spoon?”_  I roll my eyes.  _“Because, if you’re taking the submissive role, then maybe it should be me.”_

I really wish he was real sometimes. Because then I could punch him.

 _“You know, I really love that you do this. It’s quite amusing.”_  He’s laying right next to me. So I turn onto my side, blocking him out.  _“You try and act like you hate me.”_  Funny that. Because I do. Dan laughs.  _“No you don’t. You’re just trying to. But you don’t hate me.”_

I grit my teeth in frustration. I can’t win with him. He never stops talking - anything that I come up with, he just throws something back. And the worst part is that he’s inside my head. So I can’t tell whether my words or his are really true. But, whether or not he’s the one telling the truth, I can always know that he’s the voice of contradiction. He’s not on my side - he’s on Dan’s. And what’s even worse? It’s not a debate between us. He’s not trying to convince me of anything. He’s just playing with me. He’s playing a game.

His ghosting fingers play along my neck. So I tug the covers up to my chin. He chuckles at that.

 _“Bless. You know you’re totally screwed, right?”_  I actually groan this time.  _“I’m being serious. I’m not even really here, and you’re helpless to shut me out. Have you actually recognised the magnitude of what’s going on, with me being here like this?”_  I shake my head and turn onto my front, with my hands laying beside my head on the pillow.

His hands close around my wrists and I feel my breath hitch. He’s leaning over me. Fuck, his breath is on my neck.

 _“I’m in your head, Phil.”_  I shut my eyes tight, desperate to block him out. He’s not really here! Why won’t he go away?  _“I’ve infiltrated your mind. You’re helpless to escape because you’ve already been caught. Don’t you see that?”_

My toes curl in discomfort. Why can’t I make him leave? I’ve done it before. He’s been here before to quench my loneliness. But I don’t want him here now. Why am I stuck with him?

 _“You want freedom,”_  he laughs into my ear. My face contorts in distress.  _“That’s your main goal. But you haven’t tried very hard to get away. You could have smashed a window or something, right? So why haven’t you?”_  Stop it. Shut up. I don’t want to think about it. _“You don’t want to leave. That’s why.”_  No, shut up! _“You can’t ignore me, Phil. I know everything that you think and feel about me. I know your secrets. You can’t ignore them. Now, about this freedom…”_  I want to wiggle free, but I’m aware of Dan’s cameras and the fact that this Dan isn’t real, so my fingers clench instead.  _“You dream of life free from me. Isn’t that right?”_  Yes, of fucking course it is. He just laughs. _“Go ahead. Dream all you want. But that dream is as real as me. You’re not going anywhere. There’s no future where you’re not tied to me at all times.”_  That’s not true. You can’t know that.  _“Of course I can. Because I’m in your head, and I know you’re never going to escape.”_  I feel his lips graze the back of my neck and I shiver at the unwanted touch.  _“You want freedom? You’ll have to find it with me. Find the smallest freedoms in our relationship that you can. Encourage me not to tie you up. Become the dominant one. And, most importantly:”_  He chuckles softly.  _“Enjoy yourself. That’s the greatest freedom you’ll ever get.”_

He disappears. I tremble in my sleep that night.

_“So you’re working now then? Have I remembered that right?”_

_Dan nodded to me excitedly. “I certainly am! It’s only a small job, but at least I’ll still have all the free time in the world to talk to you. So yeah - I’m very excited for this year!”_

_His smile was wide and beaming, far bigger and far brighter than I’d ever seen him smile before. I couldn’t help but smile back at him - his happiness is too infectious._

_“Oh! That reminds me,” he cried suddenly, his eyes flashing excitedly all of a sudden. “I’m making another video!”_

_“Really? Already?” He nodded his head quickly, obviously very enthralled by the concept of videomaking. “You only made your first two days ago! You’re going to make your subscribers expect too much of you, Dan.”_

_He stuck his tongue out at me for that. “Oi! I plan to keep a very strict schedule for my videos, alright! I filmed it all yesterday, and I’ve been editing it all afternoon - ”_

_“What a great way to use your gap year,” I mumbled, wanting to be cheeky._

_“Shut up,” he growled like a little kid. I kept smiling at him. He was far too adorable for his age - and for an aspiring lawyer especially. “So I plan to post it tonight, and I was wondering, since you’re not doing much anymore… Would you watch it? Please?”_

_I tried not to gulp, instead plastering a kind smile on my face, not letting any reluctance show. “Of course I will. After all, you spend so much of your time watching mine. It’s the least I can do.”_

_Dan showed me a small smile. “Thanks, but… I was thinking… maybe you could… umm, well I’ve worked so hard on this one, and I’ve used so many of the tips you gave me.” Fuck, did he really? They weren’t that good anyway. He was really taking this video thing seriously. “Would you, maybe, tell me what you think of it? It would be an honour to have you critic my work.”_

_Fuck, he was really taking it seriously._

_“I’ll find the time. I promise.” The words felt almost bitter in my mouth, but I tried to ignore it. It was horrid to get his hopes up, especially when he cared so much about these videos now. But I knew it was going to be painful to watch them. And, after that, what would I have told him? Should I have lied and pretend that he had made something amazing? Or was I supposed to tell the truth, and break his heart? It’s an impossible scenario. I hate things like this. But I hated hurting him more._

_Hopefully he would give up this dream soon and save me the trouble._

_“I wanted to tell you, actually, about this dream I had.” Dan looked sheepish all of a sudden. So I brought my attention back to him. “Hopefully this doesn’t sound creepy, but, umm, I kinda had a dream about you last night.” Instantly, his cheeks flush bright pink, and he covers it up with his pillow._

_I let out a laugh. “Oh god, really? I was in your dream?” Dan nodded quickly, refusing to undercover his face. “That’s so sweet! It’s not creepy - well, unless it was one of_ those _kinds of dreams.”_

_His eyes went wide at that comment. “Fuck off! I’m not twelve, Phil!” I practically snorted._

_“Okay, I’m sorry. Have I offended you too much that you won’t tell me what the dream was about?”_

_Dan pulled the pillow down into his lap again. “No,” he grumbled. “I dreamt that I was on a train, and I was going to Manchester. We were meeting in real life.” I cocked my head in interest. Dan had never mentioned anything like this before. Of course, they weren’t too far from each other - just a few hours away. But there was never any mention of meeting up before this. “I know we’ve never discussed it before, but…” He started to itch his arm shyly. “It just… It was so exciting. We played video games all day, and went to Starbucks, and walked around the city. And it made me wonder what it would really be like to meet you.”_

_I didn’t say anything to that. I didn’t know what to say._

_He glanced up to me, with both worry and expectation in his eyes, and as soon as he caught sight of me, they fell sad. “Oh dear,” he muttered. “Have I made it awkward? Did it turn creepy?”_

_“No, it’s not that.” Fuck - what was I supposed to say? What was the problem anyway? There was nothing wrong with Dan. So why did I seem to dislike the idea of us meeting? “You haven’t done anything wrong. It’s just…” Fuck. “I’m a stranger from the internet. Doesn’t that worry you at all?”_

_He started to frown. “Of course it doesn’t. You’re Phil. I know your identity, and your age, and your personality. Why would I worry? You’d never hurt me.”_

_I tried not to groan. “That’s not the point. You could think you know me, but I could actually be some psychopath. They don’t have to be creepy and in their sixties, you know?”_

_He was practically mad now. “What’s up with you all of a sudden? What’s this about?” Fuck, I really screwed up. What the hell was I supposed to say to him? “Don’t you like me? Is that it? Have you been pretending all this time?”_

_“God no! That’s not what this is! Dan, just listen to me - ”_

_“Actually, you know what? No.”_

_I shut my mouth instantly. He’d never done that before. I didn’t dare say anything._

_“There is nothing wrong with me,” Dan informed me. “And there’s nothing wrong with you either. Don’t try and lie to me.”_

_“Dan, I’ve - ”_

_“You’re not honest with me,” he continued. “There’s something you’re not entirely truthful about. And I want to know what it is.”_

_I tried to open my mouth and say something - but there was nothing for me to say._

_Dan’s eyes welled up. “This isn’t fair, you know. I fucking dream about you and you dismiss me. I was happy for once. Aren’t you happy when we spend time together?”_

_Finally, I found the courage to speak again. “Of course I am! No one’s ever been closer to me than you.”_

_“Then act like it!” Dan yelled. Then he sighed, and lowered his head. “I think I’ll just go…”_

_I swallowed down my awkwardness. “No, Dan, please - ”_

_“_ End _.”_

_I sighed and closed my laptop. I’d never upset him like that before._

_Did he really care so much about us meeting up? No, that wasn’t it. He was upset about something else. He was upset with me. Apparently I wasn’t the person he thought I was._

_No, that’s stupid, Phil. You’d hurt him. And you were being bitter with him? Maybe Dan was right about our friendship not being fair, because I really didn’t seem to deserve him._

_I didn’t message him that night. I wanted to give him some space._

_That was the evening before the sixthteenth. For a moment, that next night, when Dan raised whatever blurred object he had in hand, I wondered if our last conversation had been the cause. But by Tuesday morning I knew there was something far deeper than that._

I seem to drift quite easily, almost unresistingly, to sleep on Friday night. Every so often, as I float across the ocean of consciousness, I seem to wake a little, and in those moments Dan’s voice seems to slip through my mind.

_“… You miss me…”_

_“… Do you like it when I hurt you…?”_

_“… I think you secretly want to stay here…”_

_“… You want to be my pet…”_

_“You want to love me.”_

Once his words have left their mark, he falls away again, and I float under the waves of sleep.

This time, I seem to float further than before, like I’m drifting above the surface.

 _“… Hey Phil…”_  Dan’s voice returns, still soft and dream-like as it always is.  _“… Missed you… Hope you… Here…”_

The ghost of his fingers blows along my jaw and lifts my head towards the clouds. The sky is still dark and hidden above me. The ghost of his lips floats across my own, making them soft and sensitive. The wind wraps round me, swopping under my shoulders and under my knees, and lifts me to the sky. And there I float, bobbing gently above the waves, for a while. A gentle breeze sweeps across my chest, blowing my shirt away. And then I’m laid down gently on the waves again. The ghost of its wetness, or coldness, spreads across my back.

Clouds begin to swarm above me, congregating round my position. They turn grey. Rain starts to trickle down, then pour, hitting my legs and working up my body. Then, as it reaches the top of my chest, I close my eyes, embracing the shower.

Water sprays forcefully against my face and it jolts me awake, making me spurt and gasp helplessly. I try to turn my head away, but a hand grasps my chin tightly and holds me still. My blood runs horridly cold. There’s too much water, not enough air. I can’t breathe, I can’t - I’ll drown!

He pulls the spray away and I choke for my next few breaths, feeling tears fall down my face and mix together. I open my eyes.

Dan.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: violence/torture (like waterboarding), knives, blood, asphyxiation, restraint, mentions of non-con (but no actual non-con stuff)**

**Sorry again**

He’s dragged me into the shower. My hands are bound in my lap. He’s still gripping my jaw.

He doesn’t say anything. He lets me stare and suffer.

Then he’s holding the shower head against my face again.

I hold my breath, petrified, and try shaking my head loose from his grasp, but he just holds me tighter, slamming the back of my head against the shower floor over and over until I final stop struggling.

Then he pulls it away again.

“Dan!” I cry, gasping. “What the fuck?! S-stop it!”

He grunts, forcing his fingers into my mouth and yanking down my jaw, so he can aim the spray straight into my mouth. At this point, from the head trauma, from the oxygen deprivation, and from this, my mind starts to spin and my vision warps helplessly. I can’t breathe. Sounds start to slur. I try reaching my shivering fingers up to Dan, but he moves himself away. He’s not having anything from me. The ocean forms around me, and I feel myself falling.

Dan pulls the stream away.

His fingers pull out, letting me gasp and cry to my heart’s content, as he grabs some soap and starts scrubbing my hands clean. And as gentle as he’s been before, I wasn’t expecting him to be so rough. I start to squeal as he practically scratches my skin away, throwing my head back and forth like some sort of helpless creature.

“Dan!” I try to call, the word forced out by the pain. But it’s ignored.

He climbs over my torso until he’s leaning down over my face, his eyes sharp and glaring like knives into my own. Still without a word, his hands wrap round my throat and start to squeeze, and straight away I feel my windpipe lock shut.

My heart pounds terrified against my ribcage as if screaming to be let go, and my lungs do the same.

“D-an - !” I choke out, my trembling hands grasping his shirt like a lifeline. My veins seems to swell - my heartbeat seems to make my entire body pulse like a balloon, like I’ll burst if Dan doesn’t stop. I feel my face turning horribly red. My eyes start to ache. I need to breathe! “St-op - !”

I try to hit him, beating my hands against his chest, but he doesn’t seem to care. He won’t stop staring at me. It’s delighting him - his lips might be straight but there’s a grin in his eyes.

As I feel myself drifting away, I realise there isn’t any water to catch me. It’s just air - no, just emptiness. There’s nothing to catch me. Nothing. Actual nothingness.

I feel my heart screaming.

He releases me, and I fall to my side, clutching my neck and spluttering weakly to catch my breath. My body is still shivering. I won’t recover from this quickly at all.

“Do you understand?” Dan tells me. His voice isn’t as soft and childish as it usually is. “I’ve let you breathe. I’ve let you live. Don’t forget that.” He stands himself up and throws the soap and shampoo bottles against my back, probably going to leave a bruise. “Clean yourself up. You’ve been disgusting without me.”

He takes himself out of the shower and out of the bathroom, locking the door loudly behind him.

I take a few moments to recover. The room fills only with sounds from the shower head and my traumatised lungs.

Despite what he’s just done, I don’t comply. Why should I? That would tell him that I’m easy to break. It’s not that I want him to hurt me, of course not, that’s never been true. His motive just now was obvious: teach me that he’ll show me pain when I don’t obey. So if I clean myself, I’m practically putting the collar round my neck and crawling right into Dan’s lap. So no - I won’t do it. If I didn’t want to get hurt, I would have tried to escape in the week. From the start I planned to drive him to the edge.

I never let myself contemplate what the edge might have in store for me.

Have I made a mistake?

Right now, I have a choice. Or should I call it an opportunity? I can save myself from pain. I can stop Dan’s torment. All I have to do is comply. Once I do, he’ll do nothing but love me, and not long after I’ll love him too. We could be happy together. I wanted that before, didn’t I? From the first day in Dan’s captivity, I had made my choice. I chose this path.

But times have changed. We’ve moved on from first impressions. He’s shown me far more of himself since I made that decision. The scars on my wrists seem to throb, in the process of healing. He’s shown me violence and what I could possibly call a superiority complex. He’s shown me sadism and psychopathy. He’s shown me madness. He’s shown me obsession. I was an idiot back then, making irrational impulsive decisions without even knowing what there was in store for me.

Captivity. I can’t ever forget that word. Dan’s captivity. I’m trapped and that’s the way it would always stay. I would never be free with him. If I were ever happy with him, if our relationship were ever to seem perfect, I would have lost my mind to his strange indoctrination. No other explanation. No other possible outcome.

Insanity or sanity. That’s the real choice.

I scoff at that thought. Isn’t that a lie. Dan has already made his mark on me. It’s too late for part of me. I can’t even say when this entrapment first started: was it two weeks ago, or four months? The symptoms of his infections are mostly invisible. I’m already a victim to these strange effects. Even if I’m free from the physical Dan, I will always still be prey to the scars he’s left in my mind. Cognitively and oneirically, I will never be free from him.

So, Phil. What’s the choice?

I can choose to comply. I can give in to him. That would be a promise of submission and eternal entrapment.

Or I can choose to refuse. If I do that, who knows what will happen. He’ll keep hurting me, certainly. He’ll be desperate to gain my submission. But, if I never give in, would he finally leave me with freedom?

Or he could kill me. He could chain me up without my permission. There’s nothing to say that he needs it. That’s just his current aim - what if there’s something else he wants from me, in the long term?

_I feel Dan climb on top of me - my heart races like a little frightened bird in my ribcage. He grabs my jaw again and pulls me forwards, intentions obviously clear -_

_“N-no!” I cry, shoving my hands desperately against his chest. He huffs like an animal, frustrated with me, and he grabs my wrists and holds them down against my stomach. “Stop it! I have neighbours, I-I’ll scream!”_

_“Shut up,” Dan growls, squeezing my jaw until his fingers hit bone. “You’re not being considerate. It wouldn’t hurt if you stopped complaining.”_

He didn’t need my permission then. In fact, he barely saw me as anything other than a thing to kiss.

_He’s obsessed with you! You should have realised how badly he wants his hands on you. Hadn’t you figured that out already? You protested when he got close last time. The shower is just the excuse he came up with so you would let him this time round._

No, I’m wrong. He didn’t force me that time. He wanted the right reaction from me. I’ve had it all wrong all this time. He doesn’t need me to love him: no, it’s not as difficult as that.  _Considerate_. That’s all he wants from me. I don’t have to be indoctrinated, just permissive.

But, then again, maybe even that’s not quite right.

_“That’s the involuntary part you were talking about - meaning your body. And, in that regard, you’ve fallen head over heels for me. No - it’s the voluntary part that’s the problem now. You don’t want to want me.”_

Shit. It’s even more complex than that. Permission and consideration is only the first stage. The next is indoctrination. First he’ll gain my will - like an entrance wound - and then he’ll feed in his infection. He’ll make me his like I’ve wanted it from the beginning. That way, the memories of being a hostage, of being held here, of not wanting him, will all fall away. I would always have been his. Oh god - he won’t just take my future. He’ll take my past.

Is Dan even this clever? Maybe I’m complimenting him far too much. He might have warned me not to underestimate him, but how far can I overestimate him? Maybe it’s not dangerous to do that - after all, I’ll still tread carefully around him. Unless he’s far smarter than I think, and he’s got an entirely different plan laid out for me. I might, like I’ve blindly done before, walk and settle myself right into his true intentions.

I must seem like a rat to him. A rat running helplessly through the maze of Dan’s captivity.

I must never forget that word.

 _“So, Phil,”_  Dan’s voice purrs against my ear.  _“What will your decision be? Do you want to be mine?”_  His arms wrap around me, marking his territory.

I shake them away.

No. I won’t be yours. I’ll fight until my last breath.

The door squeaks open and there stands Dan, arms folded - and upon seeing me, shower off, hair still greasy from days without washing, he lets out an irritated sigh.

“Get over here,” he commands, turning his head away from me, like he expects not to have to watch me to make sure I’m obeying.

But I just sit there, confident that I’m not going to move. I’m not his pet.

His mouth seems to slant horridly. He’s never been like this before. It doesn’t seem natural. “Use those legs you’re so desperate to have free and walk yourself over here. Don’t make me drag you.”

Still, by sitting still, I stand my ground.

After a silent moment, Dan lowers his head, shakes it slightly, and lets out a sigh.

Then he’s lunging and grabbing a fistful of my hair, keeping his promise and dragging me across the bathroom tiles - then carpet - bouncing me down the stairs - more carpet, the hallway - and throwing me angrily  into the kitchen. I turn myself onto my back to watch him, my heart practically at my eyes now, watching him slam the door.

He turns around. His stare is shallow. Those eyes are just a wall.

Dan walks in front of me and kneels down. He’s hardly left any air between us. This time, I still don’t move, but for a different reason.

“What a waste,” he tuts. He sounds genuinely disappointed. It’s strange to me: angry, yes, I could see that happening. But not disappointed. “You could have done so much work during this week. It’s not like there’s anything else for you to do. You could’ve planned hundreds of videos right down to the last detail. But the way you waste time now that you’re not in education anymore, it’s sickening.”

He brings a hand up, and I flinch involuntarily away - that makes his lips twitch into an almost smile. He’s far too giddy when he affects me. His hand reaches for my head and my body goes rigid, my heart thumping anxiously, as his fingers play gently through my hair.

“What have you actually done this week, huh? Do you know?” I keep silent. He raises an eyebrow. “Oh dear. Maybe we’ve lost some brain cells. You taught yourself to hate me, Phil. And that upsets me for a couple of reasons. It’s not just because you plainly don’t want to like me.” His fingers start to tighten and twist, causing pain to shoot through my scalp. I bite my lip in retaliation. “It’s because you promised to love me. You told me you were trying. You said you hoped to love me soon. And those were your words, not mine.”

He yanks my head back, my lips letting slip a squeal. Dan stares at me. His eyes have gotten colder. He really hates me right now.

“Stop lying to me. If you lie, I hurt you. You have to be trained.”

I gulp.

“So,” he continues, eyes sharp and focused on my face for any pointers. “Tell me. Are you going to lie to me anymore?”

I confidently shake my head. His grip in my hair then gets tighter.

“Use your fucking voice, will you? I haven’t gagged you for a reason,” Dan sighs out, frustrated. “Are you going to lie?”

I bite my lip, feeling a horrid twisting sensation in my abdomen. “No.”

“No what?”

“I won’t lie to you, Dan.”

He groans. “Don’t use my name like that. You don’t get to.” He leans his head even closer, trying to intimidate me. I resist the urge to pull back away from him. “What should you do instead, to refer to me?”

I’m silent for a moment. “I… I don’t know.”

He only blinks. “Why don’t you need to use my name, huh?” I stay silent. “There’s no one else you could be talking to. And that’s the way it’s going to stay for a long time. Do you understand?”

I nod my head.

He still doesn’t show anything but coldness in his face. I can’t read him. I can’t anticipate him or understand what he’s going to do. I don’t know what he’s feeling towards me anymore.

He continues. “Are you in pain right now?”

I pause for a moment, letting myself think and consider my answer. “A little,” I mumble quietly, feeling ashamed to admit it.

He simply nods at that.

“Tell me,” he goes on. He leaves a horrid moment of silence to worsen my anxieties about him. “Are you bent on refusing me?”

I go rigid, feeling my body start to sweat. God, I wish I could stop fearing him so much. But I can’t, it’s foolish to wish that, because he’s given me so many reasons to be afraid.

I swallow down my worries as best as I can, but they’re quick to grow. “Yes,” I choke out. “I am. I don’t want to give in to you.”

At those words, Dan goes silent. He lets go of my hair and stands himself up, making his way across the kitchen.

As he occupies himself with the drawers, my eyes dart to the kitchen door. He never locked it.

I won’t lose this chance.

I’m darting for the door before I can realise it. I grab the door handle and twist it quickly -

Pain shoots through my side and I scream, my body falling to the floor. The sound of metal hits the tiles beside me. Did he throw a knife at me?

I crawl away as fast as I can, too aware that I’m bleeding out and every twist is painful.

“You little shit,” Dan spits, grabbing my ankle and tugging me backwards. I cry out in protest, tears filling my eyes, but he won’t listen. “You want your legs free? Fine. But I won’t let you run.”

I twist my body to see him, watching him bring a knife against my ankle. “DAN!” I scream, my eyes wide, but he still won’t listen.

He pulls the knife across my skin and I scream out helplessly as pain crashes through my nerves. But he doesn’t stop - he keeps cutting, sawing my ankle, and I continue to yell, crying for him to stop, terrified he’ll hit bone. I feel blood gushing out of me. I’m already nauseous.

Dan pulls off eventually, finished, throwing the knife away.

My body curls into itself and starts to shiver, my mouth still yelping with the pain. My ankle starts to throb horribly. I don’t dare look down. I don’t want to see the blood.

“You’ll understand,” Dan tells me, his voice far softer than it was before. I want to spit in his face for such mockery. “Why I did this. Why I had to hurt you.” He’s walked off. I hear him play with the cupboards or something. He walks back.

He kneels down before my face. I don’t want him to see me cry, but it’s not like I can stop. Though my cries have lessened, the pain beginning to dull, I can’t help but whimper loudly.

“Here,” he says softly, laying a bandage in my bound hands. “Don’t let it get infected. I’ll clean up the blood.” He almost looks sad. Maybe not sad. Just not angry anymore.

The prick. Why act so innocent after slashing my ankle open? Does he think I’d forget it was him?

I throw the cloth to the floor between us, showing him a tear-filled glare.

He stares back for a moment. Then he sighs. That irritated look comes back.

He stands up again and walks away.

“Oh well,” he sings. “I’m not giving up.”

As he walks back to the counters and cupboards, I turn crawling to the door  -  _fuck!_  Pain shoots up my leg. I can’t move anymore. I glance down at my new wound:

 _Oh fuck_. That’s a dent.

It makes me feel woozy.

“You’re stubborn.” Dan steps back. I feel my heart swelling in worry. I look up at him - he’s holding a saucepan above his head. “But I’ll break you.”

He drags it down, smashing it against my head, and everything goes black.

I groan, stirring as I wake. Shit. Dan can really hit me hard. Does it only take him one hit to knock me out? God, isn’t that embarrassing?

My eyelids are still dark. It’s not morning yet. Fuck, it’s still Friday night?

My head rolls to the side - at the action, I become worriedly aware of the material wrapped round my neck. I frown and open my eyes, turning my head further round my shoulder: the sound of metal clinking together fills my ears. I catch sight of the chain, real chain links chain, that reaches from the back of my neck and down to the floor. I can’t twist my neck far enough to see where I’m chained to.

Some chuckles emanate from in front of me. I spin my head round, panic building like the blood is simmering in my veins, to meet with Dan, his eyes wide awake and glistening with excitement like I’ve seen them do so many times before. His mouth has curved into an almost permanent smile, and I know it’s at my expense.

“Oh dear,” he sings contently, washing his eyes downwards, which involuntarily drags my gaze the same way. “You realise you’re too easy to get like this, don’t you?” My cheeks flush at the sight, of my body completely bear, and I glance away. My hands are still bound, too. He meets my gaze again and his smile only widens.

“Dan,” I whisper carefully. He raises an eyebrow, intrigued by what I have to say. “I don't… what’s going on with you?”

A unexpected laugh erupts from his chest. “Bless. You’re really not that bright after all.” He shakes his head. “I’ve really been trying here. Ever since you started this vendetta against me. I’ve tried to let you know, as clearly as I could, that fighting me will only bring you pain. But, even still, you’ve persisted. Maybe you’re really determined to fight me no matter what I do to you. Or maybe you just haven’t clocked it yet. Either way…” He reaches his hand to my head, and I can’t move away as his fingers comb through my hair. Dan cocks his head gently in admiration. “I don’t like it.”

He tugs my hair tightly and I try not to cry out at the pain. I don’t dare say anything now. It’s impossible to know what he’s going to do with me now. If his attempts at breaking me have failed, what could he possibly be trying now?

Oh god - is this the edge?

His hand falls away. “But,” he sighs softly, staring at me with a softened expression. “I haven’t given up. I still love you, and I can’t give you up, not at all. Not ever.” I try not to react in disappointment when I hear those words. “There are still so many things I want to do with you. So don’t think that refusing to be with me will stop me.”

With that, something seems to switch inside his head, and upon his lips grows a smile.

“You must think that I need your consent. Hmm? Is that what you think?” I stare at him for slightly too long, worry of being wrong shining obviously from my eyes, before I look away from him. But his fingers reach for my chin and lift my head up again, making sure that I can’t run in any form. “Oh, bless. You really did think that. But here’s the truth:” Dan leans forwards, reaching his other hand to the collar around my neck and toying with it between his fingers. “Whether or not you want it won’t stop me. I love you too much to prioritise your emotions over mine.” Helplessly, I gulp under his hands, terrified for what’s in store for me now.

His smile creeps up his face, looking far more excited than I’ve seen it before, and he stands up, making his way over to my bed. I turn my head worriedly to watch him, not wanting to miss a second of his movements. My heart is thumping worriedly within my ribcage, like a child tugging my shirt anxiously.

“Dan,” I ask as he rifles through a large bag. “The chain… Where did you get chain from?”

He doesn’t answer me - at least, not directly. “Let’s think… What do I want to do first…? There’s too much choice… There’s this:” He holds up a gag to my view - like a real one, a real sex one. My stomach starts to twist horribly. “Or I have this:” He shows me something else - a paddle. “Or these:” Some sort of clamps or something weird. I can’t help but shiver, starting to feel sick. I knew Dan felt that way about me. But I never imagined him being into this scene. Fuck, this is so much worse than I ever thought.

He pauses. Then starts to chuckle. “Oh,” Dan laughs. “I think I’ve found just the thing.” He draws something from his bag. He won’t let me see it yet. My heart starts to yell at me in panic - whatever it is, it can’t be good. “You like games, don’t you Phil?” I gulp worriedly. “I’ve got just the game to play.”

He turns back to me, and I finally catch sight of what weapon he’s chosen. Oh, fuck no. My heart sinks in fear. Is that… what, a dildo? No, that’s not all. It's… it’s got an ‘on’ switch.

“No,” I cry. Dan’s grin gets larger as he walks back to me. “No, I refuse! Keep that away from me!”

He kneels down and grabs my jaw tightly. “Here’s the game: I’ll work you with this, and we’ll see if I can get you to enjoy it.”

I try to shake my head, but his grip is tight. “No! Don’t you dare!”

He grabs the sides of my ribs and throws my body over, turning me onto my front. The chain clinks in my ears and Dan pulls my legs apart.

“You said it yourself! I’m not a bottom! How can you do this?”

He won’t listen.

I can’t breathe, I can’t move, I can’t let him win!

“Dan!” I keep crying. “Fuck, just stop it! This is cruel!”

He starts to laugh down at me. “What hasn’t been? I’ve knocked you out, I’ve tied you up, I’ve cut your flesh, I’ve drugged you, and I’ve drunk your blood. Surely  _this_  isn’t your limit.”

I feel tears fall from my eyes. “Stop it, just shut up! I don’t understand anymore! I don’t know who you are, or what you want, or what you’re doing to me. I don’t know your plans. I can’t figure you out. You don’t want to hurt me, then you do. You can’t bear to, then you enjoy it. You want my consent, and then you can just take it. Just please, make it all stop! I can’t keep going like this with you!” My eyes are shut tight, and my cries are loud and hopeless. I know, as I say all this, that I can’t ever make him stop. Nothing I ever do to protest can make him reconsider. I’m just like a ragdoll to him now. “I don’t want to play your stupid games anymore… I want out…”

At that, Dan falls silent.

He leans over my body until his face is in front of mine. I open my eyes and watch him carefully. His eyes have lost their cold wall, and their look of ecstasy. Now, they look like a child’s again, full of that same adoration I saw in them just last Tuesday.

“So…” he says carefully, watching me closely. “Does this mean you’ll stop fighting?”

I can’t stop the tears falling. I’m too shaken up. “I want your kindness again.”

A small smile plays at his lips. “If I promise to only treat you well from now on, will you promise to stay on my side?”

_“So, Phil,” Dan’s voice purrs against my ear. “What will your decision be? Do you want to be mine?” His arms wrap around me, marking his territory._

Dan carefully reaches a hand to my face, threading his fingers gently through my hair until he’s holding the back of my head. His touch is light. He doesn’t lead me anywhere.

_I shake them away._

_No. I won’t be yours. I’ll fight until my last breath._

I let out a deep sigh, trying to steady my breathing. “I promise.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, mentions of violence/injury, sexual scenes (frottage, and it’s very consensual)**

Dan shows me a kind smile. Then he leans forward, pressing his lips against my forehead in a gentle kiss, before muttering “Thank you.”

He carefully turns me over again, which makes me feel a lot calmer. Though I can’t help but wonder, and I know I really shouldn’t if I can help it, whether or not he really would have done that to me if I hadn’t stopped him.  Perhaps my adamant refusal really was a terrible idea. Dan stands himself up and walks over to my bed, to my relief returning his weapon to the bag. I let out a sigh at the sight.

“You were out for a while,” he tells me. He’s not facing me. “So your bandages need replacing. But first, you still need a wash.”

Actually, now that he’s mentioned it, I don’t feel as dirty as I did before. I look down along my elbows, remembering the dark marks of dirt that had started to form during the week, now gone. I reach my hands up carefully and run my fingers through my hair - it’s not greasy anymore. I’m already clean.

My heart drops in horrid realisation and I quickly bring my hands back to my lap. Dan already cleaned me. He knocked me out, dragged me into the shower, and cleaned me himself. Oh god - I had never even considered him doing anything with me whilst I’ve been unconscious. But now I know… shit, I can’t stop worrying. What else has he done?

He turns back round to me and walks back, kneeling down and showing me that sweet, content little smile. I’m honestly glad to see it again. “Do you agree?” he asks, reaching his hands to my wrists and beginning to untie my bandages. “Would you like to clean up? I was thinking about having a bath this time.”

I stare nervously, trying not to stare, at the reveal of my wounds as Dan takes off their coverings. He unwraps the cloth wound around my middle, which reminds me of yesterday in the kitchen. “Okay,” I answer simply. It feels strange to have this dynamic between us again. It’s weird not to live in fear of him hurting me. But this is what I asked for, wasn’t it? His kindness? I can’t live in constant terror. This would be far better than the alternative.

Dan climbs off my legs and positions himself at my side, playing his fingers carefully along my newly injured ankle. As he skims the cloth, even though he’s hardly pressing down, I can’t help but hiss at the pain. There’s no flesh there anymore. As I watch him, I can’t ignore how sickly red the cloth has turned. Dan is extra careful to take this bandage away.

“Do you understand yet?” he asks me curiously. “Do you know why I had to do this? Because I didn’t want to.”

I don’t answer him.

Dan looks up at me with a sad smile. “I ran some trials. I had to test your reluctance. The first was pain, but it was temporary, and left no scars. But you were persistent. So I tried a more permanent pain next - these left scars on your body.” His fingers sweep across the now prominent unhealthy dent in the side of my ankle. This time, I bite my lip to hold back any noise. “I wasn’t happy to see you resist after that. I didn’t want to hurt you anymore. So I went for something else.”

That’s where his explanation ends. He doesn’t tell me what the real meaning behind the third one was.

I swallow nervously, wondering if I should ever ask him questions. “Did you enjoy any of it?”

He pauses, stays silent, and ignores me. I take that to be a bad sign.

“Come on,” Dan calls as he reaches to my neck and disengages the chain. “I’ll help you get to the bathroom.” He slips his arms under my arms and lifts me from the floor. “Don’t put your right foot on the floor,” he warns. “Let me be your crutch.”

I nod my head and comply, hopping along on my left at his side.

This is strange. The way he looks after me, and cares for me, after everything he’s done - I can’t understand it. I don’t understand how he thinks or how he sees me. What am I to him? Am I like a boyfriend? Am I a hostage? Does he hate me or does he love me? Maybe he’s been in love with the image of me, with AmazingPhil, but he hates Phil because they’re not the same.

As we reach the bathroom - a different one to the one we’ve used before - my left ankle gives out and I fall - but Dan’s arms sweep under my knees and catch me, lifting me up almost bridal-style. I hook my arms, still bound at the wrists, round his neck.

It’s weird, being this close to him, being almost coupley again. He looks at me for a moment, as I unawarely stare at him. And I realise, though I wouldn’t voice it, that I’ve actually missed this, in a way.

He stops walking, telling me he’s reached the bath. I turn my head round to see that it’s already filled up and ready. I frown worriedly at the sight.

“Don’t worry,” he tells me like he’s reading my thoughts, prompting me to turn back to him. “There’s nothing malicious about this. It’s just a bath. No more pain.”

I try not to gulp anxiously. “What would you have done, if I kept resisting? Would this serve a different purpose?”

He stares at me blankly for a moment, before deciding to ignore my question, instead lowering me gently into the bath’s warm water. “Don’t worry about things like that. Everything turned out well, so the bad things don’t matter anymore. There’s no more hurt.”

As my bottom hits the bath’s floor, and the water’s warmth seems to swell around me, I find myself reluctant to take my arms away from round Dan’s neck. As he withdraws his arms from under me, instead using them to grab my wrists and lift them over his head, I find my mouth letting out a reluctant squeak. At that noise, Dan cocks his head.

“What’s wrong?” he asks gently. Blushing, I look away. “Don’t you want to let go?” I just shrug my shoulders a little. Even I don’t know what that was. He stares at me for a while, then he leans even closer. “You still don’t trust me, do you?” I look up at him then. His eyes have gone sad again, like I’ve hurt him.

“No,” I anxiously squeak out. “You’ve hurt me a lot.”

Dan bites his lip for a moment. “I’ve only hurt you when you’ve hurt me. You can trust me if you trust yourself. We made an agreement. So, as long as you’re good, I will never hurt you.” He shows me a smile, but it almost looks forced. I don’t think I’ve seen him do that before. “You can trust me.”

I don’t say anything after that.

He pulls my arms up over my head and rests them on my stomach under the water. “I won’t touch these,” he tells me, pointing to my scars. “I know they’re sensitive.”  
 

I almost want to thank him for that. But then I remember that they only exist because of him.

Or is it because of me?

Shut up, Phil. Stop thinking like that.

So, as his hands work along my skin like they have done before, I try not to think too much. I’m not really giving into him - that’s what I tell myself. I haven’t let him win me over. I haven’t submitted to him. I just don’t want to get hurt anymore. And that’s healthy. It’s not like I made his promise out of love. Maybe that how he sees it. But I made it out of fear. He can’t turn fear into love, not as long as all the memories of what he’s done play on in my head.

He takes a moment to take off his shirt and trousers, which confuses me, until he grabs the side of the bathtub and climbs inside with me. My eyes go wide as Dan kneels over me.

He shows me a comforting smile. “It’s alright. I just like being close to you,” he hums, bringing his hand to my cheek and stroking his thumb along my cheekbone. “Your face is beautiful,” he sighs. “Have I ever told you that?”

I swallow down my nerves and nod my head: as I recall, he’s said it a few times.

His eyes fall down to my mouth and I can’t help but notice how he licks his lip. “Can I… Can I kiss you yet?” he asks me sweetly. He looks back to my eyes, pleading with his stare.

I take a deep and nervous breath. “I thought you didn’t need my permission.”

Once again, his eyes go sad - and it’s painful when I make them do that, because it’s the reaction of a child. “Don’t you know? I was lying. I was just playing a part. It wasn’t real - nothing I said was.” He leans down further, until his breath is running against my lips. “I can’t do that to you. I need you to want it.” Involuntarily, I find my tongue running shyly along my bottom lip, and I’m sure Dan would have noticed. “So? Do you want to kiss me?”

I find my eyes drawn to his lips. I can’t make myself look away. I can’t lie. “I want you to kiss me,” I admit, feeling my cheeks flush shamefully.

Dan’s lips hardly move, but they somehow seem to smile.

He leans forward and presses his lips against mine, and I find myself falling into the kiss. I’d forgotten how soft he is. He’s gentle with me, knowing I’m fragile both physically and mentally.

Suddenly he pulls away quite sharply, which makes me worry. He looks a little distressed. I wonder what I did.

“I need you to know,” he starts to cry, “that when I said, about loving you so much, and that I don’t care how you feel, I didn’t mean it, I, I care about you, more than myself, you mean more to me than anything, and I swear, I promise, I couldn’t, I love you - ”

I shush him quietly, letting his voice drain away. As he stares at me somewhat expectantly and somewhat uncertain, I bring my hands up between us and wrap them round the back of his neck. “It’s alright,” I whisper to him. “I know. I know how much you love me.” I encourage him closer and he doesn’t object - in fact, he seems quite surprised.

This behaviour seems to work with him. It feels very passive and effortless. It’s like I’m working with different parts of myself that I’m comfortable with: I can want to be close to him, because that appeases him, while I can also maintain the mindset that I’m not losing myself to him. It’s practically perfect. And Dan seems so determined for me to be willing and wanting that he convinces himself that this behaviour is true. Of course, this isn’t a permanent solution. Either I find a way out of this predicament or he actually sweeps me under his influence. But, at least for now, I can comply with the promise.

He reaches forward and kisses me again, and I let him do it, letting him pour his passions into me. This could be a weakness of his. But it seems to be his strength. Of course he doesn’t want any harm to come to me, but he doesn’t seem to want me to cause any harm either. It’s a strange sort of protection I suppose.

He pulls away, instead burrowing his face in my shoulder. “Tell me,” he mumbles into my skin, “how much you know. I want to hear my love from you.”

Not really understanding, I decide to comply with his request. It doesn’t seem like it can harm me, exactly. “Well, you… you love me, don’t you?” Dan hums against my neck - fuck, the sensation makes me shiver. “You really love me. You’ve watched my videos forever, and you fell in love with me like that.” He starts to press little kisses to the sensitive skin of my neck and I try to suppress the noises that want to leave my mouth because of his touch. “And you want me to love you back. Because, that way, we can be together. And that’s your dream. Isn’t it?”

He hums in approval. “And how does it feel? How does me loving you make you feel?”

He resumes his kisses and I try not to gulp. I’m starting to realise why he asked this of me in the first place. “Well, at first, it - ” My breath hitches for a moment, I hope Dan didn’t notice it. “ - it scared me. I didn’t know what you were going to do to me.”

His left hand begins to wander down into the water, swimming down between us. I still try not to react, not to tell him anything. “How did it feel after?” he prompts me. “Did it get better?”

I gulp, wishing I could control myself. “Yes. Of course it did.”

His fingers graze my thigh timidly. I’m already in trouble.

“So how did it feel?”

I helplessly bite my lip. “It felt good.”

I practically feel his smile against my skin. “And good isn’t scary, is it?” I shake my head. He starts to play the tips of his fingers along my thigh, tracing light circles along my skin. “Are you still scared by my affections?” Again, I shake my head. “That’s good,” Dan tells me. He sighs. “You’re so good, aren’t you?”

My body starts to tremble under his touch. “Dan, please,” I can’t help but cry.

“What?” Cringing, I don’t answer. “Phil,” he calls, almost in concern. “Do you want something?”

I really don’t want to answer him. But I can’t seem to stop myself. “This teasing…” I tell him. “I can't… Please…” My thigh opens slightly without my permission. It’s been ages since I’ve felt him affect me like this. It isn’t fair. But I kind of don’t want to stop. Because, honestly? I’ve never known anything better than when Dan touches me.

“Oh,” he says, which causes my blush to deepen. “It’s okay. I’ll help you,” he soothes, bringing his hand between my thighs. As his fingers curl gently around my cock, and I let out a grateful sigh, I realise how hard he’d managed to make me. Maybe he’s right - maybe I really am a slut for him.

“Oh fuck,” I sigh, tilting my head back over the edge of the bath. It seems, with the water surrounding us, like his fingers glide smoothly along me. It’s like the house is falling away around us, and we’re floating, like when I’m dreaming. It doesn’t feel real. But I’m still feeling it. “Dan… please…” My fingers clench helplessly behind his head. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s like he’s holding me under water, and I’m drowning, and I can’t reach the surface. It’s one of those strange moments; drowning. You know you’re dying but it’s too peaceful.

He shushes me softly, continuing to sweetly kiss my neck. I lean my head away without telling myself to, involuntarily presenting more of my skin to him. He’s too good to me. Or I’m too susceptible. My thighs push themselves slightly further apart and I try not to bring my hips up into his hand. I can’t help myself. It’s like he’s got me on strings.

“It’s not scary,” Dan gasps out. “Is it?”

My body’s starting to tremble beneath him. “No,” I moan out.

He practically moans back. It seems that this is affecting him too. The time apart has probably affected him far worse than it affected me. “See what it’s like…” his voice trembles, “when you’re good. This is how it feels to let me love you.” I try to bite back a moan. “How does it feel?”

Fuck - how can he make me talk now? “It's… it’s good, Fuck, y-you’re so… Dan…”

I wonder if he’s smiling right now. He plays his thumb briefly over the head, forcing out a gasping moan from my mouth. I can’t control myself anymore.

“You like this?” he asks. I moan out a yes. “You like being good?” Yes. “Do you want to feel like this again?” Yes, of course, a million times. “That’s good. Remember that. Okay. One more question:”

I wait patiently. The shameful sounds of my moaning fill the air around us. Dan starts to suck softly at the skin of my neck, causing me to cry out. It’s not fair. He’s going to ruin me. My toes clench helplessly. I can’t help how he affects me.

“There’s a way to make this feel better,” he tells me, dragging this moment out further. “If you love me.” My breath catches in my throat. “Do you think you can love me?”

My whole body is trembling. I can’t control myself. I can’t lie. “Yes,” I cry. “Yes, of course I can. Fuck - I want to.”

He sighs heavily and drops his head into my shoulder. “Oh fuck,” he gasps. “I’ve been desperate to hear you say that.”

I buck up into his hand, with moans falling desperately from my lips. I need him.

Dan giggles sweetly. “You’re so cute,” he tells me. “You react so well to me. It’s addictive.” He says this between small kisses to the underside of my jaw. “You’re not like this with anyone else. Only I can do this for you.”

“Dan…” I sigh, feeling him bring me closer to the edge. My body’s gone limp beneath him, all inhibitions dissolved into the air.

“You want to love me,” he gasps out. “Fuck. It’s like a dream. We can really happen. You’ll be mine and I’ll be yours.” I can’t help but moan. “Can you say it? I want to hear it from you. You make it sound real.” I can hardly close my mouth. “Say you’ll be mine. And I’ll be yours.  _Fuck, please, Phil_.”

 _Shit_  - Dan when he begs. I’d forgotten how that sounds.

“I'll…” I choke out. “I’ll be yours, Dan.” I’m really losing it. “And you’ll be mine.”

Dan seems to laugh. “Oh fuck. I'm… oh shit.” He’s trembling too, now. He must be hard. Fuck - I can’t take this much longer. My fingers are grasping desperately at the back of his neck, and I hope he gets the message. “You promised to be good. You promised to let me treat you well. So prove it.” I let out a loud and helpless moan. “Show me how well I can treat you. Let me make you come.”

I’m too close. “Dan, shit, please!”

He swipes his thumb over the head. And I’m gone.

It’s like I’m raised to the surface, just for a moment - and then he’s dragging me down, deep, deeper still, the pressure making my stomach flip and my body shake in overwhelm, and the velocity heating up the skin all over my body. And, to my side, with his lips against my throat, Dan is whispering sweet praises into my ear. And I listen to his voice, that sweet and entrancing siren, as he lets the water fill me up.

It’s bliss. It’s shameful. It’s good and I don’t care for anything else.

My body relaxes into the water and I let out a weary sigh. He really ruined me.

I open my eyes. Dan’s body is trembling. His boxers are completely soaked under the water, and his hips are swaying helplessly. I can’t help but think how beautiful his skin looks.

I lick my lips, still trying to catch my breath. “Let me… let me help…” I hold him carefully with my arms as I lift my thigh between us, reaching his crotch. He lets out a choked gasp against my neck. I can feel the smooth outline of his erection against my skin. He’s really desperate.

“Phil…” Dan sighs, burrowing his face into my neck. “You’re so… so good… to me…” His voice is like a lullaby when he’s blissed out.

I can’t help but admire the way he moves, grinding lethargically into my thigh. His back arches and he rolls his hips smoothly. His shoulder blades pull slightly closer to each together. He’s moved his left hand back to our end of the tub to support himself. His moans are little more than sighs, and maybe I’m imagining it, but each one sounds like the shape of my name. I might just be wanting to hear it. Maybe I shouldn’t think too far into that. His sighs blow his warm breath against my neck, and I find it sweet. Even the little things feel nice with him.

He’s just a boy, really. He’s almost small in the way he acts and he reminds me of a young child. And when I get to handle him like this, like I’m protecting him, or guiding him, or simply caring for him, it gives me this kind of fuzzy feeling in my chest that I’ve never felt before. I haven’t many moments like this with him before. He hasn’t let me. Of course he wouldn’t - he couldn’t trust me. But, when he settles himself so trustingly in my care, I feel something like pride, because I get to show him how trustworthy I can be.

He stills as he comes, whimpering my name softly, then he falls, relaxed, into me. His chest rises and falls quite quickly as he tries to catch his breath. I made him out of breath. That warm proud feeling swells inside me again.

“Dan,” I call, playing the tips of fingers in his hair. “The water’s probably disgusting now.”

He hums in agreement, and slowly pushes himself up, and I take my arms away from round his neck. He climbs out of the bath, pulls the plug to let the water drain away around me, and dries himself off with a towel. Instantly, I bring my legs together, trying not to blush in my exposure. Once the water has drained away, he leans over the edge of the bath and presses the towel against my skin, starting to dry me off too. I sit myself up carefully to help him, and I let him lift each of my legs with as much care as I’ve ever seen him execute with me to wipe them down too.

Then, after throwing away the towel, Dan scoops me up gently and lifts me out of the bath, and almost instinctively, I settle my arms around his neck.

I wonder how it got to this. Less than probably half an hour ago I was adamant I wouldn’t give in to him. I guess it goes to show how useless my resistance is. I can’t win against him. It’s too easy for him to win me over. It looks like I might just have to face it soon: I really will be his.

He leads me to my room again and lays me down on my bed - I haven’t slept here in a while. But it almost makes sense now that Dan is here again. He takes a moment to slip some underwear on me, which I’m definitely grateful for, and then he starts to bandage my wounds again - my wrists are starting to heal, but the same can’t be said for my waist and my ankle. But he’s extra careful with those: he holds a thick lump of cotton against each scar and wraps cloth around it several times to hold it in place.

“I’m sorry about these,” he mutters sadly. “I really didn’t want to hurt you like this.”

I surprise myself by believing him.

“You should get some more sleep now. You look really worn out.” I feel myself blush. Dan pokes my cheek and smiles. “Don’t worry. It’s been a really hard day altogether, that’s what I mean. You need to get a good rest for tonight.”

He goes to leave, but I reach for him, clutching tightly onto his jaw.

He looks at me curiously. “What is it?”

I’m still blushing. “Stay,” I ask him quietly.

Dan smiles down at me for that. “Of course I will. Whatever you want.” He climbs into bed beside me and pulls the covers over both of us, and because of our lack of clothing, we snuffle close to each other.

I reach my hands towards him, not really knowing what I want, but Dan stops me, taking my wrists in his own hands. I stare at him, confused, and watch his eyes move down to our hands, so I follow. He gently unties the ropes that have bound my wrists all this time and sets the restraint to the side. When I look back to him, he’s smiling, so I smile back. He’s starting to trust me again. I feel warm just from that.

I lay my hand on the side of his face and lightly stroke my thumb across his cheekbone. Dan’s smile seems to brighten at my touch. Then he closes his eyes.

I sigh to myself, as I catch myself watching his peaceful face. I’m really falling for him again.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: sexual mentions but nothing more, angst, strong language**

BLEEP. BLEEP. BLEEP. BLEEP. BLE-

Dan lets out a mix between a sigh and a groan and stretches his legs against mine. His arms are wrapped round my chest and he’s holding me close, snuggling against me comfortably.

“What’s the time?” I yawn to him.

“Ten o'clock,” he mumbles back. We’ve both incredibly exhausted. Of course we are - last night was long and wearing on us both. “We’ve had a few hours’ sleep at least.” He eventually rolls away from me and pulls the covers off the bed.

“Why the early start?” I whine, as Dan puts a hand to my shoulder and rolls me onto my back. Then he climbs on top of me. “How much sleep have you gotten lately?”

He doesn’t say anything for a while, distracting himself by checking my bandages carefully. “Hmm…” he sighs. “Honestly? I’ve hardly gotten any. I had far more surveillance footage to watch than I was ready for. And since you were being bad rather than good, I couldn’t skip over anything. It took a long time, even on fast forward.” His fingers run gently over the scar on my side and I flinch, trying not to let out a cry of pain. “And then I had to figure out what to do with you when I got back.” He leans down to my ankle, inspecting it carefully, then reseals it.

I swallow tensely, feeling a heavy horrid lump in my belly. “You didn’t sleep last night, did you?” I ask him timidly. “You couldn’t have. It takes hours for you to get up here.”

Dan doesn’t move for a moment, keeping his eyes fixed on my ankle, but I know he’s not really looking at it. He’s just not looking at me. “I left as soon as I could. Rushed home from work, packed my things, jumped on the next train. But I had to.” He lifts his head then, shuffling himself up my body. There are the beginnings of tears in his eyes. “You know how important you are to me. You’re the only thing in my life that’s truly permanent. My grades, my sleep cycle - none of that really matters compared to you.”

I find myself staring at him. Then, I reach a hand down and gently stroke the side of his face. “I’m sorry,” I tell him, meaning it. It’s not far of me to ruin his life like this just because I don’t like the way he’s tackling these feelings towards me. “I wasn’t being considerate of your situation. I was only being selfish. I’m so sorry.”

To my relief, Dan shows me a soft smile. “It’s alright. I know you were scared. But I won’t ever hurt you again.”

I believe him.

“But we should get up now. We’ve only got an hour ‘til we have to leave, and I don’t like being late.” He jumps up out of bed and drags me with him, leading me to the door.

“What do you mean?” I ask him as he takes us both downstairs. “Are we doing something today?”

We reach the kitchen and he sits me down. “It’s Halloween, Phil. Of course we’re doing something. We’re going out.” He turns the hot plate on and grabs a bowl from the cupboard. “You were invited to the gathering tonight. So we have to go.”

My eyes widen at him. “We're… We’re going outside?”

Dan turns to me and laughs. “Of course! Don’t you want to?”

“Well - ” I stutter nervously. “Do you - you trust me enough for this?”

He looks at me seriously. “What do you think could happen?”

Ah, he’s got a point. It’s not like I could run away - I have nowhere to go. And I can’t tell anyone that I’m his hostage, because who would believe that?

I turn away from him. “Nothing. I wouldn’t do anything. I’m just anxious that… I don’t know, that something could go wrong. I’ve never been out with you before.”

Dan cocks his head at me. “We’re going as friends, you know.” I look up at him then. “There’s nothing more to it. We’re friends. There’s nothing to hide.” He shows me a small half smile. “So don’t worry so much. We’re going out to have fun and see other people. We’ll have a good time.”

Then he goes back to cooking.

With nothing much else to do at the moment whilst Dan gets breakfast ready, I find myself watching him. He’s still only in his boxers from yesterday. I never really had a good look at him before. And actually, looking now, he’s got a really nice body.

I tear my gaze away and start to blush profusely. No Phil, you can’t start doing that. Keep your head together.

“I’m making pancakes,” Dan sings to me over his shoulder. “You really haven’t eaten much this week. You had me worried. So I’m going to fill you up and make up for every meal you missed.”

I bite my lip. “With pancakes?” He hums a yes. “Oh god. You’re going to make me fat.”

He laughs at that. “I’d love you either way. At least if you’re fat, I’ll know I’m treating you well.”

Dan makes a large helping of pancakes, and to my surprise, and maybe his as well, I finish every bite. I had been foolishly starving myself for god knows what reason over the last week, but now that me and Dan are okay again, I can let things go back to normal. He shows me a grateful smile as he takes our plates away.

“Now,” he says, walking over and wrapping his hands round my neck. “I haven’t had a good wash in a while, so I’m going to have a shower.”

I nod my head. “Am I joining you then?”

This time, Dan’s the one to surprise me by shaking his head. “You’ve already washed. I can do this by myself.” Then he pulls me closer and shows me what looks like a suggestive smirk. “But you’re welcome to watch.” I raise my eyebrows at the suggestion - so he does want me to like how he looks. I get it now: he needs me for validation. He’s putting the task on my shoulders to approve of him, and he’s dependent on me for that. That’s one of the reasons he can’t let me go.

“That’s not really a choice, by the way,” he tells me, his voice turning sad all of a sudden. He lets out a soft sigh. “After this week, I’m going to find it hard to trust you again. So, until everything’s good between us, I can’t let you leave my sight.” He leans his head against my own and I feel the sudden urge to press our lips together - but I resist. That’s not what he’s looking for right now. He’s just desperate to be close to me, that’s all.

I try not to swallow down tensely. “So, is this the same for our day out?”

Dan nods his head. “Of course, we can see other people. But we have to stay together.” Suddenly, his fingers tighten round the back of my neck, and the action raises my concern. He looks away from me - that fuels my thinking. “You can’t leave me alone.”

Oh. I see. It’s not just about me this time - it’s about him.

“It’s alright,” I reassure him, prompting his eyes to settle back on mine. “I promise: I’ll stay with you no matter what.” He smiles at me appreciatively for that.

In the bathroom again - not the one with the bath from yesterday, but the one we’ve always used - I sit comfortably on the tiled floor (blanket beneath me, of course, and robe around my body) as Dan stands in the shower with the door slid closed. The steam from how hot he’s got the water is starting to fog up the glass. But even still, I can make him out quite well. His figure is something I can’t seem to save to memory. Every time I look at him, and I can trace the curve of his spine, and the prominence of his shoulder blades and his hips, it’s like I’m seeing it all for the first time again. And that makes the sight irresistible. I want to try and save it in my mind - letting my eyes trace his shape carefully so I remember every detail.

I shake my head, throwing off such lewd thinking.

But the moment I fix my eyes on him again, I’m entranced, and I can’t help but stare.

I can imagine what it might feel like to run my hands along the length of his spine, feel the smoothness and warmth of his skin with my fingers. I can grip his hips like I own them. I can press my lips to his neck until he makes some noise - fuck, and those noises, maybe he’ll squeak, or whimper, or whine, and maybe he’ll even beg if I’m good enough. I can have him beneath me, and I can work him, kiss his chest, make his back arch. I can reach everything. He can be mine. His body can be mine to touch as I please.

I shake my head quickly and cover myself with my hands. My face is burning with shame. I can’t let him know I ever think such things about him. God knows what he’d try and do with that information. No, even better - I can’t let myself think those things full stop. Never. I have to shut them down before they go too far.

Dan turns to look at me, and I lift my head to return the glance. We share a smile. I force my eyes to stay fixed on his so they don’t drop down to other areas. When he looks away again, I let out a tense breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Don’t ever play me for a fool, Phil,” Dan calls suddenly, making my heart jump anxiously. He has his back to me, but I’m certain there’s a smile on his lips. “Remember: I notice everything.” My eyes go wide and I close my legs tightly together whilst Dan proceeds to giggle to himself. He turns back round to me, but I refuse to look at him. He really does hold a smile, the cheeky shit. “Come on,” he beckons. “Come here.”

Reluctantly, I do as I’m told, trying to ignore the obvious prominence of my arousal in my underwear by holding my robe together. Dan walks to the shower door, slides it open slightly, and pops his head through the gap. His hand comes through too and takes my chin in his wet grasp, letting him inspect me. My cheeks blush at the exposure, revealing my secrets. Then Dan encourages me forward and, just for a moment, he’s kissing me. Then he closes the door again.

“You can go and get dressed, if you’d like,” he offers me. “But you’re welcome to stay.” I nod and sheepishly make my way to the door. “It’s not going to be warm. So wrap up well.” I nod to him once more, and then I’m gone.

I get dressed quickly, having headed straight for my room. No amount of time could let my cheeks recover well enough from such an event. He knew. He knows how I’m feeling for him.

I’m still frustrated. Part of me was desperate to give in, and please myself, using Dan to get me through it and not caring that he knew. I could do it now, and think of him, if I dared. I could be quick enough.

I hold back from reaching to my jeans. I can’t. There might be cameras still, and he’d see. Doing it in secret would look far worse for me in his eyes.

But then again, why did he send me here? No, he offered. There was no obligation. There’s nothing he needed to do with me out of the room. Was it me, then? Had he already guessed my thinking?

I shake my head to force out any provocative thoughts and throw on my purple plaid jacket. I’ll get through today. I have to. Somehow.

I freeze. No, I had it wrong. What if he’s not guessing? Does he really think I’m okay with that sort of thing?

I grab my bag, deciding what dress-up I’m going with tonight.

He must think I’ve submitted completely now that I’ve made him his promise. But I never agreed to anything like that. The deal was that he treats me well, and I stay on his side. That doesn’t automatically make us boyfriends. That doesn’t mean I love him. No - Dan’s being too presumptuous. He’s desperate to have me be an exact fit to his model. He already anticipated my resistance before - does he really think it will just go away?

I stuff the cat ears into my bag and zip it up tightly.

But wait. Should I really be letting myself think like this again? The scars on my ankle and my side start to throb in reminder. I’m too impulsive. I can’t resist him, not like this. But I can’t stay like this either. I’m already losing my mind - it won’t be long before nothing is left of me. I’ll be a ragdoll in Dan’s hands, and never anything more. I can’t just let that happen.

Then again, maybe this anger is all misplaced. If he really wanted me to do such a thing, wouldn’t he have encouraged me himself, whilst we were in the same space? Surely that would make more sense for him. Or perhaps I really can’t guess anything with him.

The door opens and I jump round, guiltily, meeting a towel-wrapped Dan staring at me blankly. He doesn’t move or say anything for a moment. Then his eyes really seem to focus on me.

“You ready then?” he asks. I nod my head. “Damn. I’ve still got loads to do. Could you pick a costume for me then?” I nod again and start rifling through my drawers, feeling the heavy weight of his eyes on the back of me. “Have you sorted one out for yourself?” I hum in confirmation. “Care to say?”

I gulp nervously. “Cat ears,” I squeak out. “And I’ll draw whiskers, of course.”

Dan is silent for a moment. I pull out a furry brown jumper and hold it out to him. His face is blank.

“Go as a bear,” I suggest. “Then you can draw yourself a nose and we’ll be like a matching pair.”

Still, Dan does nothing. So I sigh and drop the jumper.

“Look, I know what you’re thinking.” He raises his eyebrows. “Do you really think, if I was planning on trying anything, that I would seriously use something that would immediately rouse your suspicions?” He shows me a sad smile. “I’m trying to wipe the slate clean. Take away the bad connotations of our relationship and add in something else.” I walk over to him and put my hand to his cheek, and I feel him nuzzle against it. “I want today to be good. I want to prove myself to you. So can you let me do that?”

I stare at him worriedly, trying to figure out what he’s thinking. I’ve never bullshitted so well in my life. But I have to appease him as best as I can - I have to play the part. No, not just play it - I have to become it, whenever I’ve with him. But once I’m alone, I must never forget myself.

He turns his head and kisses the palm of my hand, holding it in place with his own. Then he shows me an appreciative smile. “Of course. I want to trust you again, I really do. It’s just hard for me, you know? This is such a big thing we’re doing. I can’t stop being anxious about it going wrong.”

I nod in understanding. “It’s alright. I’ll promise you now: I won’t leave your side.”

Dan finishes getting ready and we take the train to London.

I find his behaviour strange from the moment we’re in the public eye. Maybe it’s just the unfamiliarity of being outside again, or being with Dan in real life now. But something seems different about him. We’re sitting right next to each other, with Dan pressed right up against me, and he’s holding my hand across our laps. But he’s covered our laps with his coat. And his leg keeps bouncing restlessly in the corner of my eye. If I ask him if he’s okay, he just nods his head and bites his lip. He doesn’t say a word.

And then I realise that I’ve never considered how Dan would act in the eyes of the public. It’s not like he can act like he does with me, because that’s a side of himself best kept hidden. He might be a complete introvert, completely antisocial. Maybe he functions best with me. Maybe he doesn’t want to come out tonight at all.

I fall asleep for most of the journey.

Once we reach our stop, Dan lets go of my hand, we both stand up - and he links his arm quickly with mine, attaching himself to me like a child. I try not to question him about it.

He doesn’t let me go until we’ve reached the meeting point, where a number of unfamiliar people show up. They’re mostly from YouTube, I think. But they’re all strangers to me. Once there, not only does Dan let go of me, but he takes a step away.

This man starts talking after a while, once the crowd has built up, but I take this opportunity to turn to Dan.

“Hey,” I ask him quietly. He doesn’t acknowledge me. “Dan,” I say, more harshly this time. He hums in response. “Are you okay right now?” He nods his head. “Are you sure? We don’t have to be around these people if you don’t want to. We could always do our own thing, or go home.”

He finally sets his eyes on me again. His face is void of any obvious emotion, like he’s hiding them. “I’m okay. Really. I want to be out here with you tonight.”

The man starts yelling, screaming the time and place for meeting later tonight, and it makes Dan flinch, his hand quickly jumping to his hair and tightening round a few strands. Then, as he relaxes, he starts to gently play with the hair between his fingers. It’s starting to go curly at the ends. I forgot he straightens it. He looks away from me again without a glance back.

This is too strange. I don’t like it. He’s acting differently and I don’t know why. But I’m also too scared to ask him.

Oh. Fear. Maybe that’s it. Dan’s scared of something.

But what?

The crowd starts to disperse and almost instantly I feel Dan’s hand grab my hand tightly - he lets go quickly, like it never happened, then he’s got his arm around my waist to lead me away from the crowd.

“Everyone’s getting lunch now,” he tells me abruptly. “Then we’ll meet at the square by half four. So it’s just you and me for a bit.”

I nod my head in acknowledgement and keep my mouth shut, letting him easily take me whenever he’s planning. I don’t feel like I should be scared of him right now. It’s strange - I honestly don’t think he’s taking me anywhere suspicious or dangerous. Maybe, for once, he really just wants lunch.

He sits us down in a Starbucks.

“You alright?” Dan asks me suddenly, making me look at him. “I’m talking about your ankle. Did we bandage it up enough?”

I nod without thinking. “Yeah, it’s alright. Well, mostly. I’m trying not to walk with a limp.” I take a sip of my drink and place it back down on the table between us. “Do you think we’ll be on our feet a lot tonight? Because I’m not sure I can last too long.” Then I show him a smile. “You might have to carry me back to Manchester.”

Dan smiles back too, letting me know that I’m doing something right. “I’d rather not, Phil. You know we won’t get far.”

For a moment, no words fall between us. Just silence. It’s more uncomfortable than any situation we’ve been in together. We’re used to talking non-stop. But now… now there’s nothing. What went wrong?

Oh, don’t be stupid, I scold myself. He kidnapped you, that’s what went wrong.

“Dan,” I call quietly. He hums in response. “What is today, really?”

Dan shows me a confused look. “What do you mean? It’s the Gathering. We’re on a night out.”

I simply shake my head. “You know what I mean. You don’t trust me enough to take me all the way to London for a night. I can’t believe that for a minute.”

“Well that’s your fault…” he mumbles back.

I sigh. “I know.”

He glares at me for a moment, and I wonder if I’ve really done something so wrong by asking. “Do you think it looks good that you haven’t made videos in a while? Do you think people aren’t concerned that you’ve fallen off the internet? Do you think I’m some sort of mastermind in these situations? Because I’m not, alright? Are you happy? I suck at this! But I’d suck less if you weren’t so stubborn with me.” He folds his arms and falls back in his chair, letting out a frustrated breath. “They need to know you’re alive. That’s what this is. Are you happy now? Tonight is just a ploy.”

I just stare at him for a while. He’s not looking at me anymore. He doesn’t want me to see the feelings that he can’t hide from his face.

“Dan…” I call. No response. I reach forwards and try taking his hands in mine, but he hides his hands beneath the table. I sigh. So this is how he feels when I’m difficult.

“Dan,” I continue. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

His eyes shoot to mine again. “What?”

“If that were really it, you’d be an idiot. Why risk taking me to London when you could make me make a video or make a facebook status, or tweet something?” He just stares at me blankly. “There’s something more to this. I know you’re smarter than that.”

I see what might be the beginnings of a blush on his cheeks as he looks away from me again. That familiar warm feeling buzzes in my chest at the sight.

“I hate you,” he mumbles. I try not to laugh. “Alright. Maybe I lied.”

“Shame on you,” I tease.

“Fuck off,” he spits back. “The truth is… I really do trust you enough. I trust your instinct more than your free will, in all honesty.” I feel myself want to frown at those words, but I suppress the action. “I just…” He sighs out sadly. “I just want to have a normal life with you. I want us to go out together, and get drunk, and visit places. I want that just as much as I want everything else with you. And it confuses me.” Hesitantly, he reaches forward with his hands, his fingers trembling nervously. I watch them curiously. Then he draws away and hides his hands in his lap again. “It’s like… Like this life I’ve imagined for us isn’t really real, and I’m still dreaming. Sometimes I feel like I’m hoping for something that’s never going to happen. But I’ve made so many things happen already that I thought were impossible.”

He stops there. I say that - it’s like there’s more on his tongue, more he wants to say. But he gives up after a while and closes his mouth.

But I lean forwards, not wanting to let this moment die.

“You want to spend your life with me,” I supply. “And you want me to spend mine with you. That’s not impossible.”

“But I’ve dreamt it up so much, and for so long. Sometimes I can’t tell the difference between dream and reality anymore.” He sinks back silently and starts to fumble his fingers together awkwardly. “That’s why I thought you already liked me, when we started this. Because you were never against me in my mind.”

I nod to that, understanding. Sometimes I really do forget that Dan is just a kid.

“Can I ask you something?” I dare, biting my lip nervously. “Something more personal?”

For a moment, Dan doesn’t say anything, staring at me curiously. Then he nods his head.

I swallow down my nerves - hopefully, this isn’t something that he’ll get upset about. “Why do you care about me so much? If I seemed so impossible, if I’m so difficult, why not give up and find something or someone else?”

His eyes sharpen for a moment, and I panic that I’ve overstepped the line. “What are you talking about? Don’t you understand love? It isn’t something you can just give up on. I can’t just let you go. That’s what love is all about - you fight for it. You make it work.” I see his hands clench tightly into fists. “I give all my time to you for that very cause.”

My heart tugs with those words. I try not to dwell on that feeling. “But why? Fighting I understand. But all your time? Dan, you’re working at the moment, and university isn’t far off. And then there’s your acting, and piano, and your videos. How can you keep dedicating so much time to me?”

I watch his face fall with what looks like shame, and as he sinks into himself again, his head falling to his chest to hide his face, I feel an unfamiliar urge to reach out and hold him. It hurts me to see him so sad.

He lets out a quiet sigh. “You really don’t know me, do you?” I keep quiet at those words. “I’m not blaming you. It’s entirely my fault. I’ve always lied to you.” I cock my head at that. How much has he lied about? “There’s nothing, Phil. Nothing else in my life but you. Work is a shithole. Family is a lost cause. I haven’t done any acting or piano lessons in years. Everyone I ever come across thinks I’m weird and creepy. I give you all my time because… because you’re all I have. I can’t let you get away from me, because once you’re gone, I’ll have nothing, and I won’t be anything anymore.”

My mouth goes dry for words. Dan has never been so open before.

“What - what do you mean? You won’t be anything?”

He looks up at me then, and I can finally see what he was hiding from me - the start of tears. It breaks my heart.

“Without you, I don’t feel anything. There’s no passion, no compassion, no anger. I’m empty inside. That’s why I act, and that’s why I lie: because then, I finally feel like I’m feeling something. With you, not only do I mean something, but I feel love. And I’ve never felt something so addictive before.”

Dan brings his hands to the table to help him lean forwards, opening his mouth to say something more - but nothing comes out. His mouth closes again in defeat, and he slouches back again.

Before his hands slide off the table something grabs them, pulling them carefully closer to me, and it takes me a while to register that the hands holding Dan’s are my own. I look down at them, and consider. Then my grip tightens.

“I…” I try, wondering what I should say to this. “I would never want to cause you pain.” I dare a glance to Dan to see him sitting up again, back straight, his eyes beaming, and a grateful smile across his lips. “Don’t let me hurt you. I… I want to help in any way I can.”

Suddenly Dan tugs his hands away and stands himself up. “Come on,” he rushes out as he grabs both our coats. “We better head over now. Wouldn’t want to miss any pre-drinks.”

I follow him without complaint and without question, though I can’t help but wonder why the sudden move. As he hands me my coat, I sneak a glance under his fringe, and there lies my answer: he’s bright red.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: nothing much - just angst, strong language, and mentions of scars/violence**

After coffee, Dan leads me to the true meet-up.

We meet everyone again in Waterloo Station, using the toilets inside to finish off our costumes for the evening. As I stand next to Dan in front of the mirrors, both of us drawing on our faces with what hopefully isn’t permanent marker, we don’t say much. Then we all head over to Jubilee Gardens together, where the party is, already feeling the music pound in our ears.

I stick close to Dan, mainly because I don’t think I know anyone else here. If I lose him, I don’t know what I’d do. He’s got my wallet for one thing, so I’ll be stranded here.

That makes my heart drop in dread. Oh god, hopefully abandoning me wasn’t his real plan.

“Phil!” Dan calls suddenly, making me jump. He’s staring at me with a little concerned frown on his features. “Are you feeling okay?”

I take a deep breath and nod my head. “Yeah, I think so. I haven’t been outside for a while, so…” I trail off, but Dan nods in understanding anyway.

“Can I ask you a favour?” I nod quickly. “Well, I think I’m the youngest person here. And I don’t have any ID, unlike my friends.”

I try not to frown at that - ‘friends’? I thought he said he didn’t have anyone.

“Oh god, Dan. Are you asking me to help you dodge the law?”

He smiles and lets out a chuckle at that. “No! What kind of person do you take me for? But - ” I roll my eyes, and, for that, he slaps my arm. “But I’d really love a drink if you get one too many cups from the bar right now.”

In response, I stick my tongue out at him, but comply regardless.

It’s weird. Being on my own, in this crowded place for a change, makes me feel uneasy. I’m anxious about everyone now, worried that each of them has some kind of vendetta against me, worried that they might all have secrets, might pounce on me at any moment, or that they can read everything between me and Dan. I can’t help but shiver as I walk through them all.

I buy the drinks easily and head back to Dan, and once I see him -

Shit. I almost drop the drinks.

Dan turns round to me and smiles, waving happily, with the widest grin on his face.

“Phil! Look who I found!”

My breath freezes for a moment.

Peej.

What’s he doing here?

Fuck oh fuck oh fuck. I can’t do this. Not here, not with him.

“H-hey,” I gasp out, handing Dan his drink with trembling fingers. “How come you’re here?”

Peej turns to me and smiles, happily sipping a drink of his own. “Well, you invited me of course.” When I frown, he barks out a laugh. “Oh dear. How much have you been drinking already?”

I dare a glance at Dan, who, inconspicuously, refuses to look at me.

“The real question here,” he continues, clearing his throat, “is do you guys know Chris?” And, then, the fourth guy of the group suddenly becomes apparent - how has Dan managed this? I thought he was a social hermit! Chris, as he’s apparently called, greets me a friendly wave. “Actually, I didn’t know him or Dan until tonight. So this is cool!”

I try to smile with him, taking to drinking from my cup religiously frequently.

“Oh!” Peej suddenly yells. “Weren’t you in Phil’s latest video? What was it called? 'Philis..'… ugh…”

“'philisnotonfire’,” Dan supplies, that big grin never leaving him. “It’s a mash-up of our channel names.”

Both Peej’s and Chris’ eyebrows raise at that. “Oh,” Peej says. “You’re a YouTuber too?”

“In the making!” Dan laughs. He suddenly wraps his arm around my waist and I try not to react, masking it with another swig of my drink. “Phil’s my inspiration! Do you know how long he’s been making videos?”

“Yeah. A few years.” Peej’s smile weakens. “Do you know how long we’ve known each other?”

Dan nods confidently. “Quite a while. Phil told me all about you.” Again, I frown at that. I never told him about Peej. Not anything more than a name.

“Hey Dan,” Peej asks. “How old are you?”

Dan giggles at that. “Just about the drinking age, if I’m honest.” He brings the cup to this lips and swallows down quite a bit of it. I’ve never known him to giggle this much. But then again, I’ve never, ever, known him to drink. No wait - he hasn’t drank that much yet. He’s still sober. Then why is acting so strange?

“Oh,” Peej continues. “So you’re - what? Sixth form? College?”

“Gap year,” Dan nods. “I’ll be going to uni next year.”

“And you live - London? Manchester?”

“Berkshire, actually! It’s kind of far, but well worth the journey.” He nudges my hip and I cover it with another drink. I probably shouldn’t let myself drink too much around him, or anyone else. Alcohol, from past experiences, seems to act like a truth serum with me. It’s certainly not safe. “And I suppose you’re going to ask how we met next.”

Peej scoffs, impressed. “Well, if you’re up for a story.”

Dan clears his throat and tightens his grip on my hip. And what makes it worse, besides the fact that his proximity is burning and making my cheeks flush, is that Peej has certainly noticed it. I’m forced to look away and nervously drain my cup.

“Well, I found Phil through his YouTube channel - he didn’t have very many subscribers then - and we soon got talking. We spoke practically non-stop for months, it was brilliant! And then we finally decided that we should meet up.” Again, I’m pretty sure those are lies. But I let him continue - what else could I do? I can’t tell these two the real story. “So, since I wasn’t working in October, we agreed to meet in Manchester, and Phil showed me around the city, and I spent the night, and we filmed our collab.” He lifts his chin into the air and presents his proud little smile to the world. “It was probably the best couple of days of my life - well, at least, so far. We’ve still got a long story ahead of us.” He takes another drink quickly. “And that’s set in stone! Phil, I haven’t actually told you this yet:”

Oh god: my blood runs cold. What could he possibly say? Is it even going to be true?

“I got into the University of Manchester!”

Oh god. He’s not lying. No, he can’t be serious.

“And my grades were above their requirements, too. They accepted me right away!”

He nuzzles his head against my shoulder and I try my best to smile. But, whether it’s from his touch or his confession, I’m shaking. That’s another three years of him at least. He’ll be right on my doorstep.

Without realising how fixed Peej’s gaze is on me, I find myself gulping nervously.

“Dan,” I gasp out. “I’d love to get another drink. Do you want to come with me?”

He beams his smile up at me. “Of course!”

We say goodbye to Peej, and Chris, and head to bar. But before we get there, I tug on Dan’s arm firmly.

“Dan, my ankle’s killing me,” I lie through my teeth. “Can we go sit somewhere? Please?”

To my surprise, I suppose, Dan actually takes my arm in his grasp for a moment before dropping it again. “You’re shaking,” he whispers. Then he takes hold of my waist again and leads me through the crowd, away from the bar, and towards the London Eye beside us. “Come on. I know a good place.”

He leads me away from the crowd, down the stairs and to the edge of the Thames, and sits us down, legs crossed on the cold winter-stained concrete. “It’s alright,” he tells me quietly, taking his hands away from me. I started crying helplessly on the way, like an idiot. “You can tell me what’s really wrong.”

I wipe the tears away from my face and sniffle quietly. “It’s just… It’s so hard. I’ve never been in a situation like this before. And it’s killing me to lie to people I know.”

“You’re not lying,” he reassures. “You don’t have to reveal everything about yourself to have friends, you know? They know we’re close and that’s enough.”

I shake my head. “That’s not… It’s not that simple. I like being open with people. I don’t like having things in my head and in my life that they don’t know about. So now, when I can’t disclose anything about you and me… it makes me feel so sick. Just looking at Peej makes me feel horrid, like I’m keeping something from him, like I’m evil. I can’t stand it, Dan.”

Dan shows me a sad smile. Then he’s reaching his hands to my face, wiping my cheeks gently, and settles them on my shoulder lightly.

“Don’t get me wrong, okay? I’m so glad you feel comfortable enough to talk about this kind of stuff.” I nod timidly. “But I can’t solve this problem for you. I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable with me. So what do you want to do about this?”

I find I can’t draw my gaze away from him. Maybe it’s the alcohol in my system, or the way the light against his face compliments the darkness of the night. But he looks mesmerising right now.

My hands reach up to his face. Dan flinches for a moment, trying to move away. But after a quick glance around us, he lets me continue, so my hands settle themselves loving on his cheeks.

“I want to be with you,” I mumble quietly. “Just you. I can’t see anyone else until… until there’s nothing to hide.” I think I’ve moved closer. I can’t stop myself. He looks too good right now. It’s like there’s a fishing line between us, and I’m being drawn in. I’m locked in this bubble with him. My heart starts racing. Curses fill my head in panic. My eyes fall down to his lips -

I pull him forwards before I know what we’re doing, and I’m kissing him hard. It isn’t sweet. It’s desperate. It’s addictive and I can’t stop. A spark, some new feeling, ignites from within my chest, and in response my back straightens confidently. I’m in control right now. I’ve never been in control before. I tug him closer, needing him closer, and to my surprise Dan falls submissively into my hold. His hands even reach for mine and squeeze me tightly. This feels right. It’s not scary when I’m the dominant one. And this is what Dan wants, isn’t it?

He pulls me off suddenly and pushes himself back, instantly shooting his eyes around the area around us. It’s still empty. We’re still alone. He lets out a tense sigh and pushes himself onto his feet, and I just sit there watching.

“I’ll get our coats and stuff,” he mutters, his face a bright red. “You’d better stay here and rest that ankle, okay?”

I nod in compliance. “Are we going home now?” He nods back.

Then he’s gone. And I’m alone.

I drop my face into my hands and let the tears fall.

My heart is still pounding. I can’t ignore the taste of his lips on mine. I can’t stop shaking.

I want him. It’s undeniable now. Just get me in the right mood and I can’t keep my mind straight. Hell - I can’t even control myself! And it terrifies me! Just last night he was doing such awful, cruel things to me just to get his way with me. And now I’m falling for him again. How fucked up am I?!

I wipe away my tears with a chest-rattling sob and lift my head back to reality.

My heart drops into my stomach.

My bottom lip quivers in shame.

  1. Standing by the wall, peering round the corner. His eyes wide in shock.



I look away and cover my mouth, unable to stop more tears from falling. I never told him.

“Phil, it’s okay,” Peej consoles me as he walks over. I shake my head forcefully, making my neck ache. “I’m your friend. It’s okay for you to date who you want. I’m not going to be mean to you about it.” He kneels down beside me but I still don’t look at him. My fingers are trembling terribly. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“No…” I gasp out. “It’s not fair… You can't… You can’t - ”

He takes my other hand in his grasp and shushes me carefully, but I yank it quickly away from him. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“That’s not - !”

“It’s no one’s business. Just as long as you’re happy.”

Another wave of sadness crashes through me and I keep my mouth covered, trying to suppress my sobs.

Peej shuffles a little closer to me at that. My blood has gone cold in terror. Dan could kill me for letting Peej find out anything.

“But… Phil, please promise me you’re happy with him.” My bottom lip quivers uncontrollably. “Why are you crying so much?”

I shake my head. “You can't… Just… Please…”

He lets out a sigh. “I want to help - ”

I snap. “You can’t! Just leave us alone, please!” Still, he doesn’t move. It makes my muscles itch with frustration. “There’s nothing you can do, okay? Don’t involve yourself.”

This time, it’s Peej who shakes his head. “You know I can’t believe that. I know when you’re keeping secrets from me, Phil. Why can’t you be honest with me?”

I turn to the last resort: silence.

Peej just ignores that. “You’ve mentioned him before, remember? You told me all about him. How you hardly regarded him as your friend.”

I shoot him a lethal glare for those words. “Shut up. You don’t know what you’re talking about anymore.”

Still, he doesn’t back down. “He bugged you so much! And tonight, I’ve seen those habits for myself. Something isn’t right here, Phil. Maybe Dan truly is your first love. But why him?”

I stand myself up and make to leave - but Peej grabs my wrist, making me hiss. And he catches on without missing a beat - he tugs my sleeve up and stares in shock at the thick bandage around my wrist. A mix between shame and anger begins to boil inside me.

“What… What is this?” I yank my hand away from him. “What is Dan doing to you?”

I make for the stairs without a word.

“I’m trying to understand, Phil! Don’t block me out! I won’t give up until I’m sure you’re okay.” I keep walking, taking each step as angrily as I can. “You’ve changed, Phil! Dan has done something to you and it’s turned you sour.”

At that, I turn and face him, the anger taking over. “You don’t know anything! You can’t make assumptions and accusations just because he’s someone you don’t like. What possible right do you have over me, huh?” He’s silent at that. “You haven’t spoken to me in months. But Dan has.”

He’s standing up now, standing his ground. “I care about you! Isn’t that allowed? Isn’t that what friends do?” He points fiercely at my right leg. “You don’t think I notice when something’s not right? You’re limping, you’ve got bandages on your wrist, and your neck is bruised.” I suppress the urge to bring a hand to my neck. When did I get bruises there? “I don’t have an unjustified vendetta against Dan - I don’t like him because he’s obviously bad news.”

For a moment, there’s silence between us.

Then I sigh and shake my head.

“Alright. You want to understand? Me and Dan are together. We see each other a lot nowadays. And I’m happy with him. It’s the first time I’ve ever been in love, Peej, don’t I have a right to be emotional?” I take another step higher. “Oh, and the bruises? We’re rough in the bedroom.”

Peej just stares at me in shock. “He’s eighteen, Phil, for god’s sake. And he’s a fan.”

I shrug my shoulders. “He’s hot. And he loves me back.”

He frowns at me. “What is with you? Drop the confident act! It’s not you!” I shake my head and turn back to the party. “I know you better than you think, Phil. I know that when you act confident, you’re really just scared.” I stop again. My heart’s pounding. I’m mad at him right now and I can’t figure out why. Just hours ago I would have been begging him for help in my escape. So why am I so defensive now? “You know, no matter what you say, I’ll be fighting for you.”

I don’t look round to him. Tears of anger start to form in my eyes. “Don’t,” I seethe at him, trying to hold back any more tears. “Whilst I have Dan, I don’t need you anymore.”

Peej yells my name behind me as I walk back.

“Phil!” Dan calls, crashing into me suddenly. He stares at me, confused, hands full of all our stuff. “Huh? Why did you move?”

I shrug my shoulders and shake away my tears. That would just be one more thing to have to explain anyway. “Nothing, I… I just wondered where you’d gone. Thought maybe you’d gotten yourself lost.”

Dan sticks his tongue out at me and hands me my stuff. “Come on then. I think we’ve had enough social interaction to last a lifetime.”

I nod, taking my stuff and following closely behind him. I can’t wait to get out of this place.

On the train back (and at a ridiculous hour), me and Dan mostly sit in silence, which, by the way, is killer on a two hour journey.

After what already feels like hours, I finally get the courage to tell him.

“Dan,” I call quietly. He hums in response. “Peej knows.”

His body goes stiff. “Knows what?”

I swallow tensely. “About us.” I’ve fallen to a whisper now. “He saw me kiss you.”

Dan is silent for a moment, and then he swallows tensely. “And was there… is there anything else he knows?”

I shake my head cautiously. “Not about the bad stuff. Though he questioned my wrist and apparently my neck.” Finally, after it itching for ages, I can reach my hand to the apparently wounded flesh, and under my fingers the skin certainly feels bruised and sensitive. I pull my hand away again. “But I tried to tell him to stay out of it.”

For a second, Dan sighs and covers his mouth with his hand. I wonder if he’s going to cry. I lean forwards to get a better look at him.

“Are you angry with me for letting him find out so much?” No answer. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have kissed you if I’d known he was there.”

Surprisingly, he shakes his head, and as his hand falls away it reveals to me his smile. “Oh, you don’t know how happy you’ve made me!” I frown in confusion. So he wants Peej to know? “For a while there, I thought you’d never tell me! I was getting so worried about our trust.” Suddenly he lurches forwards and grabs my hands, tugging me towards him. “I heard everything between you two. You even called me hot.” I turn my head away to shield my growing blush, but Dan is far passed such awkwardness between us. “No, this is good! Don’t look so ashamed of yourself!”

I realise no one else is actually in this part of the train. No wonder Dan is being so loud.

He looks at me with his eyes shining adoringly like they used to. “Maybe I really can trust you,” he says with a huge smile. He’s so cute when he’s happy. It makes my stomach feel all fuzzy and warm.

Once we get back home, I feel a wave of relief wash through me, draining me of all my energy. It’s already so late. It feels like a nervous weight has been lifted of my shoulders, and I can finally be myself again. Well, more like me and Dan can be ourselves again.

He helps me up to our room, my ankle really beginning to throb after the during day before, and he sits me down carefully on our bed.

“Can I…” he starts, his voice quiet and unsure. “Umm… Sorry.” He pulls out a familiar-looking bag from under my bed - it’s from the other day. I shiver at the sight. From within it, he pulls out something I’ve never seen in real life before: a set of handcuffs. My body goes rigid at the sight.

“It’s alright,” Dan reassures me. “It’s just a precaution. And besides - it’s not like I’ll let you go anywhere on that leg tomorrow.”

Biting my lip nervously, I give him permission, watching closely as Dan secures the cuffs around my ankles.

Then, he sits over the bed with me - well, over my lap - and places his hands on both my cheeks.

“I’m so proud of you today,” he whispers with a smile. And, surprising myself, I feel a smile form on my own lips at his praise. It feels nice to be good for him. “I feel… I feel like, after today…” Dan mumbles quietly, distracting himself by stroking his thumbs along my skin. “… I can finally trust you.”

For that, I show him a real smile, my stomach feeling comfortably warm with delight.

His eyes fall down to my lips, and I don’t hesitate to close my eyes, letting him kiss me. It surprises me; even after all this time, he’s still so soft. It’s surprising in a good way. It makes me feel safe with him. Dan is himself when he is with me and he never changes. And that’s safe. He’ll become predictable, and bearable. I can grow comfortable with him.

He draws away and stands himself up, causing me to frown. Is he leaving?

“Wait!” I call after him.

Dan turns back to me, with a frown of his own. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Where are you going?”

He chuckles sweetly. “To your parents’ old room. I figured you wouldn’t feel too comfortable around me yet, after the other night.” His eyes avert from mine just then.

I show him a pout. “No, please… please stay.”

At those words, Dan smiles brightly, and climbs into bed with me. “Of course. Anything you want.”

We cuddle up together under the covers, like we used to. I slip one of my feet, with the added restraint of the cuffs, between his, and gently stroke my toes along his skin. The touch makes him smile. It makes me feel giddy. Dan brushes his fingers through my hair and sighs happily.

“I love you,” he tells me, his voice soft, and the words gentle.

I smile back. It’s hard to know what to say to that. “I’m nearly there,” I answer, seeing his eyes brighten like a child’s.

I close my eyes straight away and let myself fall into a comfortable, well-needed sleep.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: some sexual-ish scenes, ish-mentions of non-con, angst, strong language**

I groan softly as I wake, stirring gently.

“Dan…” I moan. “What… What are you doing?”

He lets out a light giggle and lifts his head up from my chest. “Nothing,” he chuckles. “I wanted to see if I could wake you up.”

My shirt - the same from yesterday, once again - has been unbuttoned, and to the bare skin of my chest, Dan has been placing kisses.

I simply groan and roll my head to the side. “God, you’re so weird.” He giggles at that. “I don’t remember you being horny in the mornings.”

“I’m not,” he calls back. “You’re just too cute when you sleep. You’re like a little kid.” I see him smile then. “You don’t think this is the first time, do you?”

_My heart drops in horrid realisation and I quickly bring my hands back to my lap. Dan already cleaned me. He knocked me out, dragged me into the shower, and cleaned me himself. Oh god - I had never even considered him doing anything with me whilst I’ve been unconscious. But now I know… shit, I can’t stop worrying. What else has he done?_

I try not to gulp. “Of course not,” I tell him timidly. “I’m not dead when I’m asleep.” Maybe that line wasn’t the best to go with. But, with it, I see Dan’s eyes brighten excitedly, and I think: should that worry me?

He climbs up my torso and rests his forearms against the top of my chest comfortably, and he shows me a beaming grin. He can really act like such a child sometimes.

“Hey,” I ask. “Here’s a question: do you always wake up before me?”

Dan sits there and considers it for a moment, before simply shrugging his shoulders. “Dunno. I might do. I think you just sleep too much.”

“Rude,” I growl, bouncing him slightly out of spite. But as I do, Dan lets out a squeal and grasps my shoulders, panicked.

“Fuck, don’t do that!” he cries.

At that, I let a silly little amused grin grow wide across my lips.

I start to wiggle, shaking Dan around on top of me, and making him squeal and cry and clutch onto me for dear life. “Stop! You’re a prick! Stop it!” he giggles at me.

So I stop. We lay there and laugh while catching our breath. Dan stares at me, and I stare at him, my hands creeping up his back. Then we’re kissing, and I’m holding him close, finding myself enjoying the moment. It’s okay like this. My fingers tighten round his shirt. His fingers press needily into my shoulder. And, to my unsure surprise, I find my heart pulsing with something strange: it’s new, and weird, and it might hurt a bit - I’m not certain. But, in a strange way, I sort of like it. I think it’s supposed to be a good feeling.

Dan pushes the shoulders of my shirt away and moves his mouth down, settling himself instead on my neck, and I find my head rolling away slightly, invitingly, and I sigh out in - what? Satisfaction, maybe? Tranquil pleasure? It’s hard to find the right words when he floods me like this.

My hands, without my outright permission, start to encourage Dan’s shirt away, and I know I’m not really thinking anymore: I’m just acting, on impulse perhaps. No - most likely. If I could consider any of this, I would never let Dan get this far. Like this, it’s like he can crawl and kiss his way past my defences, and I’m helpless to resist him.

And, I think, if I had to name the worst part of all this - all the advances that Dan has made with me - it wouldn’t be this, the intimacy, the kissing and everything beyond that. It’s him. It’s the fact that he’s so sweet, and kind, and he cares about me so much. I’m Dan’s everything and he treating me just the same - like I’m special. Not like I’m his victim. I’m really not his victim. I’m his lover. I’m his everything. I’m really special to him.

“Dan,” I call shyly, promoting him to pull away and look at me. “We should probably have breakfast before we do anything else,” I suggest with a soft smile. “Since we didn’t have much dinner last night.” We hadn’t had anything, actually.

Dan nods with a smile. “Of course: anything for you.”

He takes his shirt off completely and takes my hands in his, lifting me from the bed. Then he stops. Dan looks down at my legs and sighs.

“Can I take them off…?” he mumbles. I know he isn’t talking to me. “No, I worked your ankle too much last night.” I try not to show my disappointment at that.

But then Dan surprises me: he still undoes the cuffs and slips them off my ankles. As he tucks them back into his bag, I give him an unintentional look of confusion, which Dan eventually looks up and sees. And, with that realisation, he shows me a kind smile.

“It’s okay,” he tells me softly. “I’m not going to make you walk anywhere. I trust you now.” His smile seems to flash with joy. “You can stay here and rest up for the day.” Then Dan pushes himself up onto his feet. “I’ll make breakfast.”

For a brief moment, Dan brings a hand to my cheek and kisses me sweetly, before heading down to the kitchen. He doesn’t lock or even close the door behind him.

A warm buzzing feeling starts to kindle inside me. Dan trusts me. He really, genuinely trust me.

I gaze down at my ankles, moving them apart slightly and enjoying the freedom he’s given me. Then I decide to take a look at my wound, so I pull down my jeans (ugh, I really shouldn’t sleep with them on again), tugging them off my feet, and dropping them to the floor. I swing my foot gently as I admire Dan’s work: it seems he’s replaced the bandaging again. He really does take good care of me.

Dan comes back with some bacon sandwiches not long after, and I panic to cover my legs with the covers.

“Sorry I haven’t made pancakes, I wanted to do something quick - ” He stops, stares at me (probably my red-flushed cheeks) and smiles. “Oh, you’re so cute. You know you don’t have to be embarrassed me, right?”

“O-of course,” I stutter out. I lower my head, hoping my blush will fade soon. “Sorry. I was just looking at my ankle.”

Dan simply nods his head at that. He hands me my plate, letting me tuck in without delay, but when he sets his down on my desk I can’t help but watch him in confusion. Then his hands reach to his trousers and pull them down and off his legs, which makes my confused expression deepen. And when Dan looks back at me, he just laughs.

“I thought this might make you feel a little better,” he laughs, shrugging, before grabbing his plate and sitting on the end of the bed, facing me.

Once we’ve finished, Dan takes both our plates and sets them down to the side. Then he’s crawling up to me with that familiar glint of wanting something specific, and I try to stop myself from smiling too much.

He sits on my lap and runs his fingers teasingly through my hair.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks sweetly. I answer him by pressing my lips to his. It feels like it’s been ages since we’ve done this, taking it slow. I snake my hands round his waist, settling gently on his hips, and encourage him slightly closer. Dan sighs softly against my lips and pushes forwards, silently asking for more, so I don’t pull away. In fact, I part my lips and invite him in, an invitation that Dan gratefully accepts.

He pulls away briefly, whispering “Trust me,” into my ear, and I nod in compliance. He pushes me back slowly until my back lays flat on the bed and Dan falls down with me, placing his knees on either side of my hips. He leans down again, but he doesn’t kiss my lips - no, Dan goes for my neck, and just from the first touch I’m helpless not to moan. He bites the skin gently, cautiously, one of his hands still threading through my hair, then he pulls my head to the side to expose more of my neck for him to taste. I bite my lip helplessly as he sucks at the skin, nibbles at my collarbone, and pecks my throat. To my surprise, he pulls a whimper from me.

I relax under his touch. Forgetting the little things, moments like this are undeniably blissful.

“Oh, Dan,” I sigh out, clenching my fingers round his shirt in silent need. It’s too easy for him to rile me up - isn’t that shameful?

“Phil,” he moans softly against my neck. “God, please… I can't…” His hand finally lets go of my hair and starts to drift down my chest. “I can't… I need you… I need - ” His hand runs down to my boxers. “ - this - ” He runs his palm over the slight bulge of my crotch and I rock up, gasping. “ - inside me.”

Oh, god. Why did he have to say that?“

"Dan,” I call. He doesn’t say anything - maybe he misheard me. He moves his hand to start pressing my thighs apart. “No, Dan, listen to me. We can’t.” I reach my hands from his hips down to grab his arm and pull him -

Suddenly, within a second, Dan has grabbed my wrists and pins them down beside my head, making my heart jump and my eyes go wide. He’s glaring at me, ecstatic.

“Don’t,” he growls. I feel his breath angrily hit my face. “What is with you? I thought you wanted this. Have you been lying to me?”

My throat’s gone dry. I didn’t think I’d see this side of Dan again, at least for a while. “N-no, it’s not - that’s not - I just - ”

“Cut the shit!” he yells, and I shut my mouth instantly. “Tell me. And don’t lie. Why can’t we have sex?”

Nervous, I gulp. “We can. I’ve promised you that. Just not now.” My fingers are starting to tremble. My heart still beats nervously fast in my chest.

“And why not now?”

“Because,” I say quietly, because my throat really has gone dry. “I want it to be special. We’re going to be together for a long time, and you too want our story to be special. We can’t just fuck for the hell of it. It’s our first time.” I try showing him a kind smile. “Don’t you want to save it?”

For a while, he just stares at me. Then he leans down to my ear and breathes deeply.

“I don’t think you understand,” he growls deeply, that alone making me gulp. My wrists twitch helplessly in their restraint - it’s been a while since he’s had to restrain me. “We’re going to be together forever. That is a long time, of course, but you don’t really get it do you? Don’t you think, if I really cared about special first times, I would have made our meeting a bit more romantic?” I suppress the urge to whimper. “Here’s the thing, Phil: we have so much time together. So we’ll have sex, over, and over, and over again, until we’ve lost count and we can’t remember what our first time was like. We can make it impulsive and quick and sloppy and as meaningless as we want.” His teeth play at my ear lobe and I try desperately not to flinch away. “Just as long as I have you inside me, I won’t even care where we are.”

Unable to stop myself, my teeth press down into my bottom lip - and Dan, of course, catching on. “Oh,” he chuckles, bringing my wrists together above my head and drifting his left hand down my body again. “You liked that, did you? Did I excite you?” I can’t say anything. Suddenly, his fingers rub against the front of my boxers again and my hips buck up helplessly, and as my mouth lets free a strangled moan, my cheeks flush red. “You really did. I’d forgotten you were still a virgin like me.”

I turn my head and squeeze my eyes shut. “No,” I still cry. “I don’t want to.”

Dan laughs loudly at that. “Are you kidding me? Are you numb?” He carefully outlines the shape of my shameful erection through my boxers. I try to hold back a moan, but my hips won’t obey me, and they jerk up into his touch. “You’re loving this. I can feel how desperate you are.”

Still, I shake my head. “I don’t want sex. Not now. We can do a-anything else.”

But Dan is far more persistent. “I want sex. Why don’t you?”

“Because,” I gasp out, trying to wiggle my hips away from his hand. “Unlike you, I care more about our relationship than just sex!”

With those words, he lets me go.

“Oh,” he says. “I get it. I really do. You want sex. But not like this.”

I nod my head quickly, telling him he’s finally got it. But oh, it seems I spoke too soon.

Dan climbs off me and crawls to the edge of the bed, climbs down, and by then he’s out of my sight. So, frowning, I crawl over to see where’s he’s gone, and my eyes go wide in surprise. He’s laid himself down, face against the carpet, ass in the air, wiggling him hips shamelessly.

“What are you doing?!”

He giggles and purrs out: “I’m taunting you. I get it - you want me, but on your own terms. You want to control me. I want that too.” He lets out a soft moan, and I think - god, is he stroking himself? “Please, Phil. Use me. Own me. Tell me I’m all yours.”

I close my eyes tightly and shake my head. “Dan, just get up and stop this. I’m not having sex tonight.”

With that, he sighs, and flops down, defeated, against the floor.

“Fine,” he groans. “Why do have to be so damn stubborn.”

Once I see him starting to get up, I let himself sit back on the bed and sigh out in exhaustion. He can really take it out of me sometimes.

The sound of clinking fills the room and so I look over at Dan, eyebrow raised. He’s pulled out a rucksack from under my bed. Why does it look so familiar?

“Dan…” I mumble cautiously. “What’s with - ”

It comes smacking into my face and I fall, groaning, to the bed. Dan climbs on top of me, grabs my wrists, and chains them together with a familiar ‘click’.

“I told you,” he growls against my ear. “Never argue with me. I hate bad habits.”

I cry out loudly in protest. “Stop it! You wouldn’t - ”

“What? Rape you?” he cuts in harshly. “You used to think I would. Why wouldn’t I? And why shouldn’t I?”

I try desperately to shake him off, or even kick him off, but it’s impossible. He’s got me pinned down. He’s got the upper hand.

“You’re insane!” I cry helplessly. “You know you can’t do it. You’ve told me yourself: I have to be wanting it.”

At those words, to my surprise, Dan starts to laugh deviously. “Oh Phil. You can really be cute sometimes. You lie to yourself so much.” He shakes his head at me mockingly. “Tell me: how easy do you think it would be for me to make you want it?” I try not to think too hard about that. My reluctance makes Dan grin in victory. “It will be easy. I’ll just jerk you off, or maybe even suck you off, without ever letting you come. I might drag it out for hours. It all depends on how quickly you give in.”

Panic begins to set in, and my body begins to squirm.

“You’ll love it,” he tells me harshly. “So don’t even pretend that you won’t.”

Then, in that moment, as Dan’s left hand wanders down my torso again, and with no other options left, I crack.

“Dan! Please, just stop this! I know what you really want and this isn’t it!” He just laughs at that. “I’m serious! You’re not desperate enough to have sex that you’d force me. You just want your own way.”

And, luckily, he stops. “What do you mean by that?”

I take a moment to get my breath back. “You feel the need to be in control of every situation. Things always have to go the way you want them - ”

“No, okay, that’s where you’re wrong!” he yells out suddenly, his grip tightly on my wrists. “Why would I rather you dominate when we have sex, huh? I want you to have control.”

I swallow nervously. “That’s not the same thing. If I dominate, I’m still obeying you. Everything goes the way you want it. This isn’t the first time you’ve lashed out like this.” He growls at me for that. “Just listen to me, okay? You got mad when I wouldn’t kiss you. You gagged me after I found your bowl of my blood. And what about every cut and scar you’ve ever given me, huh?”

He sounds out a throaty growl. “You weren’t being fair - ”

“I wasn’t playing your game the way you wanted me to,” I shoot back. “And what happened, after each of those?” He turns away from me then. Does this mean I’m winning? It’s hard to tell with him. At any moment, he could hurt me and take control again and everything I say would be useless. “I got seriously hurt. And no one was happy.”

“You learned to behave,” he supplies irritatedly.

“No, I was frightened into silence. Nothing more.”

Finally, Dan climbs off me, with an aggravated groan, letting me sigh out in relief. I watch him carefully, still very anxious about every move he makes. He pulls his clothes back on in a huff. My body relaxes gratefully at the sight - he’s finally given up.

But as I watch on, something very different seems to be happening: I think Dan’s packing.

“Dan?” I call timidly. No response. He goes for the door. “Dan! Wait!” He goes through without a word. So, groaning, I follow after him - and shit, who knew that handcuffs affect your balance?

I stumble down the stairs after him in a hurry, reaching him before he gets his hands on the door.

“Dan! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I cry incredulously.

He turns around, huffing in frustration. “What do you think, you idiot? I’m leaving.”

I almost laugh at that. “Leaving? It’s morning! You don’t go until later!” He reaches a hand behind him and unlocks the door. “Wait! At least tell me why.”

His hand freezes where it is, and Dan lets out a tired sigh. “Why do you think, Phil? I’m sick of this. No matter what I do, you won’t like me. This is the closest you’ve ever come to finally loving me, and you still treat me like your captor. You don’t want me here, so why should I stay?”

I just blink at him in shock. “What… what are you talking about? You’re giving up on me?”

He shrugs his shoulders.

I’m finally lost for words.

I reach forwards, clutching his shirt, and leaning forward to kiss him -

But Dan shoves me away.

“Goodbye, Phil,” he spits harshly, tears in his eyes, opening the door.

It slams behind him, sending the house into silence.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language/strong themes, light mentions of abuse (emotional, physical, sexual), brief (italicised) dream of non-con (undetailed, build-up only), drinking, panic attacks**

It can’t be. He can’t be gone. Not after all the effort he’s put in.

I fall back onto the stairs and stare helplessly at the door. Surely he’ll come back, if not now then eventually. Maybe it’s another trick of his, to prove my loyalty to him. He’ll be just round the corner, waiting for me to try and run whilst I can, then he’ll probably jump out, whack me round the head, complaining that he really can’t trust me, that I don’t want to love him, that all I want to do is escape him. Then he’ll trap me here, tightening his security. Maybe he’ll stop caring to make me love him. Maybe he’ll just get rid of me. After all, he wouldn’t need me anymore - not me or AmazingPhil.

Surely there’s a way of knowing, whether or not he’s truly gone. I stumble over to the window, careful, because these cuffs on my wrists won’t be too easy to move if I fall. I move over to the living room and pull back the curtains of my window - he said he drove up here, the first time, I think. Or was it the train? No, we only took the train to go to London and back. But he said, didn’t he? About taking the train up here. I can’t remember. I look out, along the drive, searching for a car that I don’t recognise - but there’s none. Maybe there wasn’t before, I can’t remember, but there’s none now. And no Dan that I can see, hiding out or otherwise.

I sigh a heavy sigh and slide down to the floor, leaning my head against the wall. It’s going to be quiet now, without him.

The doorbell goes off, startling me into consciousness. Did I fall asleep here? Never mind. I push myself up onto my feet, with great difficulty  _jesus_ , and shuffle over to the door. Who would come round at this time? It could only be Dan. How great this looks - with me still in my underwear, looking helpless as always, for him to return to. He’ll probably think I was desperate for him to come back.

I open the door timidly, keeping myself behind it, because it’s awfully cold out for the afternoon. But it is November now.

I poke my head round shyly.

“Hey!” he calls with a weirdly confident grin. He holds out a bottle of wine to me. “I hope I’m not intruding on anything. I just wanted to visit the happy couple!”

My eyes go wide at the sight of him. Perhaps I should have mentioned - it’s hard when I’m used to  _he_  meaning Dan - it’s Peej at the door.

His grin is practically beaming. I know it’s not quite right.

“Could I come in? I won’t be a bother. I just haven’t seen you in so long. At your house, I mean. Properly.”

His gaze is practically desperate to get inside.

“Peej…” I mumble, not knowing what to say. “This isn’t… This isn’t the best time…”

He takes on a new expression now - concern.

“Is everything alright?”

I nod quickly. “Of course. It’s just… Well…”

“Is Dan here?” he asks quickly. He sticks his head round the door to see for himself -

His eyes fall on me. Not my eyes, though. Both of us flush instantly.

“Oh,” he says, awkwardly. “ _Oh_.” He fixes on the cuffs. “I really did intrude on something, didn’t I?”

“No no, it’s not - ”

“You didn’t have to answer the door, you know. You could at least have thrown something on.”

Blushing hard, I just yank him inside and slam the door.

“It’s not like that, Peej! Dan isn’t even here! This - ” I scoff, gesturing to my appearance, and presenting my cuffs, “ - is all just a sick joke.”

He’s not embarrassed anymore. He’s confused. “What do you mean?”

I sigh and look away from him. “Dan left me like this, before he went. We… We got into an argument.”

Peej’s eyes go wide. I can tell, however much he tries to hide it, that he’s happy by this result. “You… You fought? And he left?” I nod shyly. “For good?”

I shrug at that. “I don’t know. Probably. He said he gave up on me.” I’m folding in on myself without realising. “I’m sorry - could I put something on? I wasn’t expecting anyone to show up today.” Peej nods quickly and without a word. “But could you… help me get these off?” I lift my wrists up, secured by the handcuffs. He nods to that as well.

I follow him to the kitchen, where he rummages through the drawers until he finds a thin piece of wire, slips it into the lock of one of cuffs, and works it inside until it clicks loose. He repeats the same on the other wrist and I mumble him a small thank you for his help.

He follows me at a distance as I head upstairs, reach my room, and throw on some joggers and a jumper before stepping back outside again.

I wonder why he’s here. He said it was to see me and Dan - ‘the happy couple’, as he called us - which would explain the wine. But why even do that? He never liked Dan, especially not our relationship. Why was he smiling so much?

Oh.

As I open the door, and see him outside, with a real smile on his face this time, I fold my arms in front of him.

“You came to spy on us, didn’t you?”

He just blinks, and his smile falters slightly. “What? No, I would never do that.”

I sharpen my eyes at him. “Don’t try and lie to me, Peej. We both know we’re terrible at that.” He lowers his head then, guiltily, admittingly. “You came to pry in our relationship, and to creep on Dan.”

“Not creep on him! Jesus, you make me sound like some sort of pervert!” Peej cries, looking at me again. “I just wanted to see for myself.”

I frown. “See what?”

He sighs and looks away again, at his feet. “See if you were okay. I couldn’t stand the thought of him hurting you and you not being able to say anything or get away.”

I unfold my arms with those words.

“You know I care about you. You’ve always been special to me - not like you are to Dan though, as I’m guessing, not in the same way. You’re practically the only friend I’ve really had, besides Chris now, and you’re the first person I ever talked to on YouTube. Can you imagine how hard it was for me to see you hurt like that?”

This time, I’m the one to look guiltily at my shoes: Peej really does, and always has cared about me. “I’m sorry,” I mumble to him. “I shouldn’t have been so aggressive. You were only doing what’s right, and I would do the same for you.”

Peej steps over to me, put his hand to my shoulder kindly, and shows me an appreciative smile. “Thank you,” he tells me. “And I’m sorry too - for not being more mature about this. I was so worried, so anxious - and probably unnecessarily, too - that I overstepped the line. Look - since this is a bad time, with the break-up and everything, I’ll just go, if you want me to.”

I grab his wrist quickly, the one by my shoulder, and grasp it tightly. “Don’t you dare go,” I warn him. “I don’t want to be alone right now. And I’d never kick you out - you should know that.”

Peej shows me a happy smile, clearly relieved by my choice, and drops his hand from my shoulder, so I let him go.

We decide, since he’s staying for a bit, that we should look at having dinner soon. I didn’t realise how long I’d been napping for until now - it’s past six o'clock.

“Do you mind if I try to cook us something?” Peej suggests, switching the hotplate on already. “I kind of need the practise before I go to uni.” Oh yeah, I’d forgotten about that - they’re both going in September.

“Sure,” I hum back, taking a seat. It’s not my usual seat - I don’t really feel like sticking to that now that Dan has gone. He places me right on the end, as if on display. “What are thinking of? And please, try your best not to poison me.”

“Oh shush,” he shoots back. “I’m not cooking any meat, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He’s picked out a large bowl, a measuring jug, and a saucepan. “I’m making pasta, if that’s alright.”

I sigh exaggeratedly and fall back into my chair. “Oh thank god! You can’t kill me with that.”

“You know I’ll slap you.” I giggle and keep quiet from then on.

I can’t help but wonder though - would Peej ever hit me? He jokes about it, and he’s been playful before. But could he, would he, should he? No, of course not. What silly thinking.

“So…” Peej starts, after a while of silence. He’s got the pasta cooking now. “How much time did Dan spend round here?”

At the question, I feel myself grow suddenly defensive. It’s not because I want to keep anything about Dan safe. It’s because I already know that he’s being sneaky again, like he was when he arrived. The casual tone is only to hide the fact that this is an interrogation.

Or am I being paranoid again?

“Actually, I have a better question:” I shoot back instead, trying to put my higher to avoid being pushed into a corner. “How did you know Dan was round here, and I wasn’t round his?”

Peej doesn’t even flinch - instead, he laughs. “You and I have hung out together, remember? Round your house. So I know your habits. And there’s not a single dirty plate or pan in sight, or any takeaway.” Oh. I slouch in my seat. “You’re terrible for that. So it’s pretty obvious that he’s been round here a bit.”

I open my mouth to answer him, but close it again quickly. “That doesn’t explain how you knew to come here though, after the Gathering.”

And again, he’s chill. Peej turns to me and puts his hand on his hip. “Phil, you know I don’t know where he lives, right?” Where else could I have gone?“ For god’s sake: I fold my arms over my chest in frustration. Maybe I’m just stupid. Maybe I’m trying too hard. Maybe I just need to shut up, or I’ll start making him suspicious. "Look, I made a judgement call: I figured you’d be at the same place after the Gathering, because of how late you’d get home, and I figured that you’d both be round yours rather than his, because you live alone.” Whilst that logic is sound, I can’t tell him that the real reasons is because I was Dan’s hostage.

He sits down opposite me, where Dan normally sits, and takes my hands in his own. “I’m not stupid. I can tell when you don’t want to talk about something.” I want to contradict that, but I admit to myself not only that Peej is right, but that not talking about Dan is going to be best for both of us - for all of us. “But I know that means there’s a reason behind it.” He squeezes my hands, and I first I take it to be a threat, a motivation to spill everything, but then I remember that this isn’t Dan anymore. “He’s not here anymore, Phil. If he was making you hide something, it’s alright now.” Peej shows me a kind, a  _genuinely_ kind, smile. “I want to help.”

I think about it for a moment. Then I pull my hands away from him.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I tell him, as confidently as I can. I can see him watching me as I ring my hand soothingly round my wrist. “But thank you. We were happy. And now he’s gone. That’s all there is to it.”

I can see it, in his fingers, the urge to hold my hands again. That makes me worry that the hands are too expressive. So I’ll keep them close. “You weren’t happy though,” he suggests. “Were you?” I try to swallow subtly and look down into my hands. “At least give me that.”

I look back at him. “No,” I admit, criminally. “I wasn’t happy. That’s probably why he left.”

I think I know Peej too well. I can see, through this sad and sympathetic expression, that he’s trying far too hard not to smile.

We don’t say much after that. In fact, we don’t say anything at all. It seems he’s either gotten enough out of me, with that little dangerous confession, or he has decided not to push me today.

I help him clear up afterwards - not out of choice, granted, he forced me to the sink. “So, are you staying here tonight?” I ask him as I pass him a plate to dry.

“Well, I don’t want to intrude too much,” Peej decides to reply with. “I can always go home if you want me to.”

I scoff at that. “You can’t say that! That shoves me right into a corner, you know?” He only giggles as I pass him a fork. “No, you know what? I actually don’t want you here.” Peej just laughs and puts the cutlery away. “Look, it’s already late. So I’ll have keep you here until morning.”

The implication amuses Peej, but makes me feel a little sick. Best not to talk like that.

We head upstairs after the washing up is done, already knowing where we’re going: we’ve done this together a few times, having Peej stay the night, so we easily slip into routine. I head to my bedroom, get into my pyjamas, giving time for Peej to use the bathroom, then by the time I go to use it he’s already out. When I come out, I’m surprised to find him standing there outside the door.

“So…” he asks me shyly. “Are we sticking with the usual, or the  _usual_ , tonight?”

I think for a moment. “The  _usual_.” He sends me a look of uncertainty. “I’ll be fine. I can spend the night on my own, I’m a grown man.” I give him a smile and head to my own room.

“Goodnight!” he calls after me. I repeat it back.

Laying in my own bed doesn’t feel right, once I finally get down to it. I can feel the cameras on me, even if they’re not on or at least not being watched. I should be safe. I should at least  _feel_  safe, especially with Peej here. But it’s not his presence that’s affecting me - it’s Dan’s, or at least the remnants or manifestations of him. It’s like in every corner there’s a ghost of him, of his gaze. In the darkness and silence of this room, he’s somewhere, unseen, right before my eyes. I squeeze them tightly shut. But it only gets worse: it’s like there’s a whispering now, constant little whisperings, fragments of his voice, real or not, floating round the now endless expanse of the room. I feel my bed start to tremble, like something is trying to climb out from underneath it. I can’t stop seeing hand-like appendages reaching up and out, the fingers trying to claw at me.

I jump up out of bed, away from all that, and run to the door, panting, throw it open, run outside, and slam it shut behind me. Without hesitating, I use the lock that Dan installed to trap it all inside.

“Are you okay?”

I jump, body tensing, as I turn round to see Peej standing there before me, still in his pyjamas, with a very shocked and alarmed look on his face.

“Jesus, Phil, you’re sweating.”

I try to catch my breath. “S-sorry…” I breathe out. “I don’t think I can stay on my own.” I wipe my eyes of any wetness - tears or sweat, I can’t be sure - and give Peej the most helpless pleading look I can. “Could we… Could we do what we always do?”

I can see a little smile trying to poke through his mouth. But it’s genuine sympathy on his face now, not like before. “You mean the usual?” I nod quickly and confidently. “Of course.”

We walk back to his room silently - I say  _his_ room, it used to be my parents’, but Peej has slept in here far more than they ever did. We even personalised it a few months back, before we stopped talking. He tucks himself under the covers before me, and I shuffle in afterwards. We keep the light on in here - not the main one, just a little night light, by the side of our bed. It annoys the neighbours less because this room doesn’t have any curtains. Well, it didn’t used to do, but it looks like some were magically installed after Dan arrived here.

Peej rolls over to face me, a curious expression on his face. “Do you… do you want to - ”

“No,” I interrupt him, curling into myself defensively. “I’ll be okay. I promise this time.”

Despite that, he shows me a sleepy smile, and we both drift off easily. For once, for the first time in a long while, I feel safe.

_“No!” I try crying. There’s already tears down my face. “Please, I don’t want this!”_

_I’m lying on my front, on this bed, my arms tucked under my chest and tied at the wrists._

_“Oh, you’re such a liar,” he laughs from behind me. He presses my legs apart, which I cry out louder at. “Even so… it’s not like I care. Do you think rapists, thieves and murderers really care for the people they hurt?”_

_I try squirming, and screaming even more, but it doesn’t do anything to save me. He used to care when I cried - why doesn’t he now?_

_“I never thought we’d do it like this,” he sneers. “But I’m addicted.”_

_“Phil!” “Phil!”_ “For God’s sake Phil, wake up!”

I shoot awake, flinching and gasping. My body is trembling and covered in sweat, and I’m lying in Peej’s arms.

“Are you alright?!” he asks worriedly.

I don’t answer him: instead, I clutch his pyjama shirt tightly in my hands and hold myself against him. I’ll stay like this until the trembling stops.

We do, for quite a while - and he never asks about it.

“I want to tell you,” I mumble to him over lunch, “what you mean to me. I don’t want you thinking that I’m just using you or anything now that Dan’s gone, because I’m sure that’s what it felt like when I stopped talking to you and I - ”

“Phil,” Peej calls back. He’s already finished his meal. “Stop putting yourself down like that. I’m not angry with you. You get that, right?” I nod my head slowly. “Just because you’re important to me doesn’t mean I’m entitled to mean something to you.”

I don’t say anything for a while. Peej clears both our plates - I didn’t finish mine, my stomach still feels twisted from that dream. “I’m not lying or anything like that, though. I don’t want to tell you what you want to hear: I want to tell you the truth. My parents never came home, like I told you.”

Peej and I fell out of contact around May earlier this year. Prior to that, we’d been spending a lot of time again on his filming and my Masters project - that was when he was staying round here a lot. But once he went home, we didn’t speak again. Initially, when he was trying to contact again, I felt guilty, so I put the blame on my parents - telling Peej that they had come home, and were staying, and were forbidding me to have a social life like they used to when I was in both primary and secondary school. And Peej believed it so well - too well, as it turned out, because he stopped trying to contact me altogether. Knowing the way he thinks, I believe that decision was down to him reasoning the costs and benefits of trying to stay in contact: my parents, as he already knew, were strict, and contacting me still would only have resulted in both of us getting in trouble: a terrifying concept when you’re hardly eighteen.

Peej just sighs and shakes his head. “I already knew that, Phil. You don’t think I’m really that stupid.”

Shame fills me like a chill in my blood, and I look away from him. “I’m sorry - ”

“Don’t be,” he interrupts. “You had Dan. I can understand how excited you were. You always - ”

“No, it’s not that.” I interrupt him back. “I didn’t start talking to Dan until June.” Peej nods to that, like it’s just confirmation of his prior suspicions. He’s always been quite smart - I wonder what else he thinks about me and Dan. “And you know I wasn’t excited like that. I had no intention of dating him - I didn’t even know he was gay, or that he liked me.”

He hums to that. “I know. You didn’t even like him. But honestly, Phil? You were blind to him.” I frown when he says that. “I never even knew who he was - you only mentioned him to me once.”

That was around September, when I was starting to find Dan annoying and over the top. He was clingy and over-imposing - I’d figured that out quite quickly. That was the only time I spoke to Peej since the silence between us, and the only time until the Halloween Gathering. Of course, for that to happen, I was severely drunk. And when I drink, I forget what boundaries are, so I spilled everything, spending my entire evening whining to Peej about Dan. God, no wonder he doesn’t like him.

Peej continues. “And even I could recognise how hard he was pining for you. But of course, when you’re drunk, you don’t listen to a single word of logic.” And unusually I lose all recollection of that night, but not that time.

“I should never have lied to you, or blamed you,” I tell him sorrowfully. I stand myself up to start cleaning our plates. “So I hope I can make it up to you.”

He gasps. “Phil Lester, are you washing up?!” He barks out an impressed laugh. “You really are making an effort!”

“Alright, don’t rub it in: this is still my house. Which you’re welcome to stay in, by the way, for as long as you want. If you want to.”

I show him a smile, and Peej smiles back. I’m so glad he’s come back.

The next night, I allow myself to wrap up tightly inside Peej’s arms: the incident this morning reminded me how comforting it always used to be when we did that - the usual, as we called it. The  _usual_  was an unusual night, strangely enough, when we would stay in separate rooms. That was never as fun. But that tended to happen when I drank a little, and said far too much. Either of us could call for the  _usual_ on those nights.

I talk in the past tense a lot when I mention all that with Peej. Maybe it seems too far in the past to happen again. Maybe I want to forget it. Or maybe I want to relive it.

Most days are spent watching TV or playing PlayStation with each other. My internet is back, but we don’t have a reason to play with anyone else when we have each other. On Wednesday, we start thinking of collabs we could do together - not a Q and A like me and Dan did, but something more creative, as that’s a strength for both of us. On Thursday, we film one, and another on Friday, On Saturday we edit them. We don’t post any yet - both of us have taken to a habit of creating a store of videos, just in case a time comes where we can’t make so many, so we’ll still have content to post.

Then, on Tuesday, something goes wrong.

“Hey, Phil?” Peej calls from the other sofa. We’re both watching TV and scrolling through the internet at the same time. He currently has his laptop on his lap, and is staring at his screen almost in distaste. “Did you… film another video with Dan?”

I frown at him. “What do you mean? We only did one collab.”

Peej glances to me then - and I can tell, just from that look, that something is definitely wrong. “This isn’t quite a collab - it says you’re a special guest. It’s a video that Dan’s just posted on his YouTube channel.”

I force out a laugh at that. “Have you been stalking his channel too?”

“Phil, I’m serious. Have a look at this.”

So he turns the screen around and I do. The video is called  _How To Befriend You Favourite Internet Stars._ The title alone has me gulping.

_“Hey guys! So this video is actually gonna be a kind of tutorial. Umm…”_

“I see what you mean,” Peej says, “about how awkward he is in his videos.”

_“So what I thought I’d do is put a little step-by-step guide together as to how anybody can be friends with their favourite internet stars.”_

“What?” I call out loud by accident, leaning intently forwards towards the screen.

_“Step one is getting them to recognise your username.”_

“Holy crap,” I say. “Is this some sort of joke?”

Peej pauses the video and looks at me very worriedly. “You’re surprised… Didn’t you know about this video?”

“How could I? That’s his house in the background, not mine. He must have filmed it when he left!”

His eyes flash with understanding then, like something just clicked inside his head. “Oh,” he mutters almost under his breath. “That makes more sense.”

“What?” I huff, now concerned myself. What’s so important about it that Peej would want to show me?

He turns the laptop slowly away from me. “In that case… I don’t think it would be good for you to see this.”

Without hesitation, I lunge over to him and yank the laptop out of his hands - he cries at me not to do it, but I refuse to listen - I skim through the video until I see something scandalous, anything - a new boyfriend, some slurs about me, indirect or not -

I reach the end of the video.

_“Just follow these easy steps and before you know it you’ll be in the bedroom of the person you’ve been thinking about for years.”_

The scene changes. Oh god, it’s my room.

_“Isn’t that right, Phil?”_

I smash the space bar and slam the screen down, taking a few heavy breaths.

“… I’m sorry,” Peej whispers to me carefully. “I tried to warn you.”

I try to compose myself. So he actually posted it. “How much…” I swallow anxiously. “How much of that footage is there?” Inside my head, I’m remembering the recording that occurred afterwards, that he never threatened to post and ruin me with.

Peej pushes himself off the sofa and onto the floor beside me. “It’s just a few seconds. He says something psychotic - or cannibalistic, I think -  and then he plays out the video.” He takes the laptop carefully out of my grasp. “Is that… is there more to that then?”

I shake my head quickly. I would never tell Peej about that.

“Can I ask…?” he says shyly, probably very cautious of his every step around me now. “Do you remember that happening?”

“Of course I do,” I respond snappily. “And if you’re going to ask how authentic it is, it’s not. It was a joke. He surprised me, but I knew he wasn’t going to hurt me. Dan would never hurt me, Peej.” I try to sound convincing, and I even surprise myself - but I think, at this point, I’m more desperate to convince myself rather than anyone else that everything past with Dan was a lie.

“Except this time,” he reminds me, shuffling himself right next to me. When Peej wraps his arm round my shoulders, I don’t object - instead, I sink into his hold. “He did this to hurt you. But you don’t have to let him beat you - just play along with it, pretend it was always a joke. That way he doesn’t win.”

I nod with him, wiping my eyes clean of any tears, as I sink further into him.

That night, to wash away my Dan-related troubles, I agree to something I never usually do after my traumatic past - we drink.

Now, looking back on it, it may have been a ploy by Peej to lure more information about Dan from me. But it didn’t go in his favour. Instead, I regressed back to the Phil he used to have to deal with months ago.

“You know, Peej,” I slur, trying to wrap my arms around him as we lay on the sofa together. There’s a blanket laid on top of us - this snuggling is a mix between a plan to keep ourselves warm and my drunken and disinhibited desire to keep close to Peej. “For the two years that I’ve known you, I always wished you’d be gay.”

He groans and tries to push me away, seeing where this is going - Peej definitely hasn’t drunk as much as me. “I know all this, Phil. You’ve drunk-confessed to me loads of times now.”

“But I’m serious!” I roll myself on top of him, playfully pinning him down. “It’s not that I’ve ever had feelings for you. I just never had friends until you. And I thought, you know, if it’s this hard to make friends, then how the hell am I going to find a boyfriend?” My head starts to spin, so I whine and clutch Peej’s shoulders tightly for balance. “So I wished… I wished: if only Peej could be gay. Then we could date, and I’d never have that problem.”

I glance down at his mouth then. At this point my brain is really starting to go fuzzy. I’d never kissed anyone before. I was supposed to kiss him, right? Or was that someone else? I was supposed to enjoy it. I lean forwards without thinking and press my lips to his, but Peej pushes me away with force.

“Phil!” he squeals. “You’ve had  _way_ too much!”

I just pout at him. “This isn’t right…” I whine. “I used to like this.”

I push forwards again, kissing him again, but it’s no use - he shoves me away just as quickly and scampers away from the sofa, muttering something about “the  _usual_ ”, and curling himself up on the separate sofa. I feel like crying now. Why doesn’t it feel the same? Why do I suddenly feel like I’m kissing a brick wall, like my feelings have nowhere to go?

By morning, I can hardly remember it, like usual, and me and Peej continue like nothing happened. Except he tells me about that, about the kiss, because I’d never done that before.

The week goes on like normal after that, like we always did after an episode like that. By Saturday, I finally find that I’m smiling again - truly, helplessly, smiling. I’m so grateful that Peej came.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, violence, knives, mentions of non-con, mentions of murder, drugging, tying-up**

I don’t stir when I wake. Of course, I groan, as always, but I don’t move. I struggle to lift my eyelids, feeling weighed down by exhaustion. But I eventually manage to pry open my eyes.

Before me lies Peej. I want to smile at the sight. But instead I feel dread. This isn’t normal. He isn’t sleeping normally. His body is on its side, but on the cold tiled floor of the kitchen. He’s wearing his pyjamas, but there’s a gag in his mouth. He isn’t moving, but his arms and legs look pulled awkwardly behind him.

Groaning again, but quieter this time, I try my own wrists:

Chained. Handcuffs.

My fingers behind me skim something cold to the touch - a chair leg, perhaps? Or a table. The latter would be more secure.

I’m not laying down. I’m sitting upright. I really don’t want to lift my head.

My bloodstream floods with dread, the throbbing of my pulse intensifying. It isn’t over. He’s back.

Footsteps sound softly against the porcelain tiles of the kitchen, and my body instinctively freezes up. My dread has overwhelmed me.

He stands over me, over my legs, his feet by my knees. He’s barefoot but at least he’s wearing trousers.

He kneels down. His hand reaches to my chin and grasps, lifting my head for him. My eyes, having nowhere else to look, fix on his. And I see something I don’t think I’ve seen on this face for a long time: blankness.

“Ah,” he whispers gently. “You’re awake.”

He adjusts his position, sitting down to the side of me and crossing his legs. His hand is his firm on my jaw, bringing my head with him.

“So, I’ll admit - I wasn’t expecting to come back so soon.” He lets out a quiet sigh. “That’s not a surprise, is it? That I was planning to come back. You didn’t really think I was leaving you for good, did you?”

I just stare at him. It’s not like I can talk - he’s gagged me as well.

Dan practically scoffs at that. “Let’s be honest - you believed it. Even if it didn’t seem plausible, you still wanted to. I’ve gotten to know you well enough.” His hand drops from my jaw, but I don’t move. It’s like I’m frozen in place, just like I used to when we first started this. “The real plan was -  what’s that old saying? Distance makes the heart grow fonder? Or is it absence? Whichever. With me gone, you were supposed to miss me. You were going to grow needier and want me back, and then, when I returned, you would gratefully accept me and never let me go.”

I glance down briefly, daringly, to see his fingers starting to clench. I try not to gulp.

“But no. That didn’t happen. Because you let  _him_  in. You let him replace me. You told him that as long as you have me, you wouldn’t need him. And I took pride in that. How stupid I was to think that it wouldn’t also work in reverse.”

He reaches his other hand to the table behind me, that I’m attached to, and retrieves something. He brings down a knife, and the blood instantly flees from my face. His grip on my jaw tightens. I try not to let any noises come through.

“Don’t blame me, Phil,” Dan whispers in a growl. “You brought this on yourself.”

He climbs over my legs and pushes them apart - oh, he’s only left me in my underwear - and sits himself inside. His right hand presses firmly against my left knee, pinning my leg down, and I realise, eyes wide, as Dan brings the knife closer, that the flesh of my thigh is being helplessly and vulnerably exposed.

“No!” I try yelling - “Stop!” too, but the noises I make are hardly more than distressed moans through my gag.

Dan shushes me harshly and points to Peej’s unconscious body across the room. “If you want to wake him up and let him watch, then keep yelling.”

My heart leaps in hatred for this predicament, but I keep silent.

I watch on helplessly as the knife is brought to my skin, wishing that I had a way to stop him - my usual wish, it seems. The blade breaks through my flesh and slices down - I scream uncontrollably, knowing I shouldn’t, so I try suppressing my cries. As Dan keeps going, making cut after cut, I throw my head back against the table leg, biting down hard on my gag, eyes squeezed shut, fingers clenching, whimpering in defeat, wishing I could make him stop.

“Shh,” he sings softly. “Don’t wake him.”

He makes another cut and I squeal, my legs tensing in struggle. Dan just presses down harder.

“You deserve this.” He’s growling again. It’s like he’s carving something into me. The cuts aren’t deep, but they break my skin open well enough. It’s starting to throb - there’s blood coming out, I can feel it. Tears are falling down my cheeks. “You deserve all the pain this gives you. I don’t have one bit of sympathy.” I let out a pain-filled whine, believing him.

He pulls back after a long time, by which I’m practically short of breath and my throat feels dry and scratched.

“There,” Dan mumbles, sitting back. He swaps the knife for something else on the table - some tissue. And with it, he wipes away the red from my new cuts. “Have a look: it’s going to be with you for a while.”

Reluctantly, and still sobbing, I obey him: I glance nervously down at his craft.

There, in red, my mutilated flesh spells out  _UNFAITHFUL._

“So you won’t forget the pain you’ve caused me,” Dan explains. “You kissed him. And it wasn’t just the once. You  _wanted_  him. And you even knew he was straight.”

I don’t sulk to his face. But it’s not fair. He had left me. He had forced me into this in the first place. What entitlement was there for me to be faithful to him?

“You also said you were in love with me,” Dan continues, but I don’t look at him again. “Back at the Gathering. But maybe you don’t remember that.”

I’m not surprised that he’s remembered that. But it was a lie - what else was I supposed to tell Peej? That we weren’t in a mutual relationship?

“Don’t worry, Phil. You don’t love me, and I know that. I’m not a kid being blinded by their crush anymore. I know how this is going to end, between us.”

I almost want to raise my eyebrows at that, intrigued by his thinking. But I’m also fearful of his answer.

Dan leans closer to me, and I find myself leaning away - but his grip comes back to hold me still.

“We were never going to be happy together,” he tells me sadly. “No matter what I do, you will never love me. You’ll always be trying to escape. This - between us - won’t ever work.” He shrugs his shoulders hopelessly. “And I can finally see that.”

Dan pushes himself closer, forcing my thighs further apart, until our crotches are nearly against each other. His hands reach up to my head and play gently through my hair - almost lovingly, I could call it, if I didn’t know Dan better.

He lets out a sigh, the breath hitting my lips. He’s too close. “I’ve decided,” he says, a hint of sadness and defeat in his voice. “I’m not going to drag this ordeal out for much longer. We both know that this is never going to end the way I want it - not for real.” His hands fall limp in my hair. “So I’ll leave you.”

My heart jumps at those words. That can’t be true. But it could be, all the same.

There are almost tears in Dan’s eyes. That tells me he’s not lying right now. “This has been as painful for you as it has for me, Phil. Maybe you never realised that. All I ever wanted was your love and acceptance of me. I wanted to mean something special to you. I wanted someplace to finally belong.” He gasps quietly, short of breath, but continues. “But I’m in the prime of life, and this between us is going nowhere. I can’t waste my time on you anymore.”

So I think, almost hopefully, almost anxiously:  _then why have you come back?_

Maybe Dan picks up on that, because he looks at me with those big, youthful, solemn-looking eyes, and answers me. “But I couldn’t leave you without saying goodbye.”

He leans closer into me, until his breath is practically skimming my lips, until he can almost kiss the gag in my mouth, making my blood churn. “You’ve always been special to me. And, in a way, I can still be special to you.”

He rocks his hips slightly forwards, brushing his clothed crotch suggestively against mine - my eyes go wide in dread.

Dan leans even closer. “Let me do this for us. Let me have my goodbye.”

My bottom lip, even with its restraint, starts to quiver.

“Let me be your first, Phil.”

I cry out quietly, trying to pull away - but Dan’s fingers tighten in my hair. Still, I shake my head desperately. I can’t do this. Even if it means Dan will leave me forever. Even so, this act - this first - will never leave me. So god forbid I ever let him take that from me.

“Stop that,” he seethes, still in a whisper. But I’m still whimpering. Then, Dan stops, and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Even this… you can’t let me have it, can you?”

He looks up at me, tears in his eyes, desperate. I still whine and shake my head. It’s almost something sadder than refusal -  _I’m sorry_ , I could be saying.  _But please, I can’t._

His face changes then. It’s like his tears just disappear.

“Well, you don’t have to  _‘let’_  me do anything. I’ve never been entirely truthful with you, Phil,” Dan mutters confidently. “Of course, I can’t do anything when you object like this. But it’s not your exact consent that I need… Just a perception of it.” On his lips grows a smirk, and he practically laughs to himself. “As long as I can convince myself that you want it, even if you don’t look or sound quite like it, I can do anything I desire.” His teeth brush tauntingly against my ear and my body shivers in dread. “And you know, right now, what I desire.”

I squeeze my eyes shut tightly, wishing I could have foreseen such things in him.

_“You want it,” he gasps out. It’s not like it hurts - he’s quite small. “You wanted it before. I never even asked you to. You asked me.” He lets out a groan. My hand is dropped to the bed. “You got hard from it. Why would this be any different?”_

I could have. I know I could have figured it out. But it wouldn’t have helped me stop him. No matter what I know, Dan will always triumph.

He moves his lips to my throat and begins to kiss me slowly, making my stomach twist in discomfort. My heart pounds, terrified, in my chest, dreading what’s to come. My fingers twist behind my back, clenching and tightening around each other. I’m helpless. I’m entirely vulnerable to him.  There’s nothing I can do and it’s all my fault.

Over the top of Dan’s hair, I see a shape start to stir, only slightly. My body’s discomfort thickens when I see Peej’s eyes open. He looks around, twisting slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion. I can practically see his heart beat quickening. But when his gaze fixes on me, and Dan on top of me, he knows to keep still and quiet.

My face flushes a deep and horrible red, witnessing Peej witness Dan kiss me like this. I want to shut my eyes and wish him away - but I already know that my wishes never come true.

Peej stares at me. I can tell, so clearly, from his eyes, what he’s thinking; what he’s asking me. Dan’s hand falls down my chest, and his mouth soon joins it. I shake my head -  _No,_ I warn him.  _It’s not worth it._

Just then, Dan’s lips close around my nipple, and I cry out involuntarily. My cheeks worsen. Tears well up hopelessly in my eyes, so I squeeze them tightly shut. It’s better, I convince myself, to make him watch this than evoke Dan’s wrath on himself.

But Peej starts to wriggle and scream - it seems he doesn’t think like me.

Dan stops, sighs deeply, and turns from me. “Oh,” he groans. “He’s joined us.”

I try to whine in objection -  _No, leave him alone_ \- but it’s no use. I’m useless.

He shuffles over to Peej across the room and takes a fistful of his hair between his fingers, tugging tightly, making Peej let out a pained hiss. I answer his cry with some despairing noise of my own.

“You’re the little shit that ruined my plans,” Dan growls down at him. And, to my surprise, Peej glares back. It’s almost menacing. Brave. Rebellious. Everything I’ve never been with Dan. “How long have you been watching us, huh? Maybe our local straight boy gets a kick from a little gay action. Or maybe you just want Phil.” Peej’s eyes sharpen - resentment. “Glare at me all you want, pretty boy - ” Dan’s grip tightens but I see Peej bite any noise down “ - but I still have the upper hand.”

Then he turns back to me, and, terrifyingly, he starts to smile. It’s the kind of smile of his that I’ve grown to dread.

“Well,” he sings, dropping Peej’s head and walking back to me. “There’s a way to win you back, after all.” No, he’s not walking to me - he reaches to the table again. Oh god, no. “You can’t have both of us. You said it yourself: when you have me, you don’t need him anymore. Now I’m back. He’s unnecessary. Disposable.”

Dan’s right hand reaches for my gag and pulls it out of my mouth. But I don’t take my eyes off Peej. For once, he looks scared. It makes me feel sick.

He walks back over to Peej, who tries desperately to shuffle away from him. But Dan easily grasps his hair again, presenting him to me.

“With him gone, I’m all you’ll ever need,” Dan tells me. “Our first time can wait - after all, we’ll have years to play with.” I visibly cringe at that. “Instead - I’ll let you decide: how will your friend die?”

“No!” I cry out, surprising myself that I actually have a voice again. “You can’t!”

Dan just scoffs at that. “Should I stab through his heart…?” He runs the tip of the blade over Peej’s left breast. “Or…” He brings it to Peej’s neck. “Can I slit his throat?”

I can’t help it. I’m helpless.

Tears start to fall again.

There’s no other way out. It’s an ultimatum. I know that, of course I do - but I’m still helpless to escape it.

“No…” I cry quietly. “I'll… I’ll do it.”

Dan cocks his head at me. He’s grinning. He knows.

“He gets to live.” My voice wavers despairingly. “And you get me. You let Peej go and I'll… I’ll  _give_  myself to you.” I cringe and turn my head away - away from Peej, specifically. “No resisting. No objecting. I’ll consent.”

The blade - in Dan’s hand - falls slowly from Peej’s throat. “And you’ll want it,” he supplies.

I swallow tensely. “Yes,” I answer. “I’ll want it.”

His smile widens. “And then I’ll leave you.” He walks back, putting the knife on the table again, and kneeling down before me. His hands settle on my cheeks. “This is all I’ll need from you. Just this and you can go free.”

My breath wavers. The tears won’t stop.  I can agree to that. How long will it take for both of us - virgins - to finish this? A few minutes? To save myself from years of torture at his hand.

I nod to him, sealing my fate.

Dan shows me kind smile - not the malicious one from before - telling me that I’ve made the right decision.

Then he moves back to Peej. I frown at that. “Dan,” I call to him.

“Don’t worry,” he answers. He takes Peej’s head in his hand again. “I’m just taking care of him. You wouldn’t want him watching us - would you?”

Peej stares at me. I know what he’s thinking. I thought I’d see him pleading. But, once again, he’s not thinking of himself. Pity. That’s what I see in his eyes. He’s sorry for me.

Dan slaps his hand over Peej’s nose, blocking his airways with a piece of cloth - I can guess what’s been spilt on there. Peej’s body squirms, terrified, and I cry out in objection.

“It’s alright,” Dan soothes. “You’re just going to sleep. Or, in your mind, maybe you’re waking up.”

It takes a moment before Peej’s struggles weaken, and he falls limp in Dan’s hands. His eyes close slowly and I see him fall away from me - leaving me alone.

Dan takes a silent moment to press his palm gently against Peej’s chest, feeling for a heartbeat, before setting the cloth on the side. Then he turns back to me. My back straightens with a cold chill as my body begins to realise what’s about to be expected of it. I wonder now which would be worse - being the top or bottom in this situation. Of course, having to bottom would hurt, and I’m glad to say that I’m safe from that. No doubt that Dan will suffer that very affliction. But at least I wouldn’t have to enjoy it. That’s my curse: suffering the intimacy and the shame that comes with it. Maybe it would be easier to be a girl. Or maybe I’m being too presumptuous, and Dan wasn’t planning on me topping at all.

“Hey,” he calls sweetly as he kneels down over me. His hands reach round my waist to unchain me and I find myself leaning away from his intimacy - an option I won’t have for much longer. “Don’t be so nervous. We’re going to enjoy ourselves. This isn’t a punishment - it’s a pleasure.” I gulp, and try to nod my head with him. I have to believe him - not necessarily 'have to’, as such, but I’m desperate to.

A familiar, and previously relieving, but now terrifying 'click’ sounds from behind me, and I feel my wrists been freed. “Are we…” I gulp nervously. “Are we taking this upstairs?”

Dan simply raises an eyebrow at me and lets out a little giggle, and then I realise that if we were going to find privacy upstairs, Peej could have stayed conscious.

A blush spreads across my cheeks as I avert my face from his view. “Oh,” I say quietly. I really wish we could take this upstairs. Even if my room would just be tainted even more. It would make me feel better and more comfortable. I really want to be comforted.

Dan adjusts himself on my thighs until our torsos are almost pressed against each other. Firstly he takes off his shirt; I try not to look at what it exposes to me. It makes it far too real. Then he’s wrapping his arms around my neck and pulls our heads together, and our lips meet without any hesitation. For this, I let him lead. Because my heart is pounding too fast and my body is shaking too intensely for me to take any control. I force my hands to reach round to his waist, nervously tracing the hem of his joggers before they’re also gone.

It feels as though Dan’s grip is tightening, like he’s either desperate to bring me closer or terrified of letting go. And, honestly, I could believe either one. I feel him try to reach his hand down between us, but I panic and pull away, turning my head away from him in objection.

“No, wait - ” I gasp.

Dan shushes me softly and brings my head back round to him. “It’s okay,” he tells me. “I won’t force you through anything. I’m not going to hurt you.” Helplessly, I bite my lip, conflicted as to whether I can believe him. He seems to notice - his other hand reaches to my lips and encourages my bottom one out from my teeth’s grip. Then he seems to freeze, paused in a moment of adoration. Dan lets out a blissful sigh. “Why do you have to be so handsome?” he whines, to my surprise biting his own bottom lip. “It makes me desperate to please you. But I can’t, when you’re so scared.” He sighs again, this time sadly. “If only I had looks like yours. Then maybe you’d find this easier.”

“No,” I jump out with, surprising myself. I’m jumping straight to his defence. Do I still do that? “Don’t say that. You’re beautiful.” Involuntarily, I find my hand reaching to his face, my fingers gently stroking his cheek. I feel the urge to sigh myself - my own personal adoration. “Haven’t I told you that before?”

Dan’s cheeks seem to turn a bright pink before my eyes, and he looks away from me. “I can’t ever be sure…” he confesses. “I’ve dreamt you up too much to remember what’s real.”

I feel the familiar comfort of a warmth beginning to kindle inside my chest - pride. I’m surreal to him sometimes.

“Can you show me?” Dan asks me shyly. “Prove to me how beautiful I am to you.” A blush rises on his cheeks. Then he adds a quiet “Please?”

This whole scenario - this dynamic, specifically - feels so familiar, with a hint of nostalgia. I’ve missed this - this behaviour with Dan. I find myself clinging to it now, like a fish to a hook. But is it reeling me up or sinking me further down?

Sinking. Immersion. That’s what I need right now.

I reach my hand to the back of Dan’s neck and encourage him closer, until I can bring his mouth against mine. He falls into my hold, and into the kiss, instantly - submissively. Which is strange, because I’m supposed to be the one allowing this to happen. In our relationship, I’m the submissive one, and Dan is dominant. But it feels like he’s desperate to have me on top of him - and that’s either to lead him or spoil him, but I’m not sure which yet.

He pulls me down with him as he lays himself on the cold tiles of the kitchen floor. My knees sit on either side of his hips, my hands both pressed flat against the floor beside his head. I pull our mouths apart.

“How did you know,” I whisper, aware that I’m trying to stall, “that I top?”

Dan, beneath me, simply bites his lip. “I didn’t,” he deadpans. “I just sort of knew. I felt it. You just had to.” I feel his hands run softly up and down my arms. “Every time I imagined us together, you were always on top. This just feels right.” His hands settle on my shoulders. “Don’t you agree?”

I pause for a moment, before decisively nodding with him. I can agree that I could never think of Dan… I almost shiver at the thought.

But there’s one more thing that I can’t deny, that I have to admit. It’s been chasing me for a long time.

_I don’t feel like crying anymore. This new atmosphere… I don’t mind it._

_No, this dynamic is strange. It doesn’t make sense. But… But I like it like this. It feels more natural._

_It’s odd, that he takes such a submissive role. But he is a bottom after all._

I stare down at him, my heart thumping louder and stronger than I’ve ever felt it do before.

_Dan practically falls into my hands, almost helplessly, letting me lead. It’s strange, this dynamic, but it feels so much better than the reverse. I like the way I can affect him like this._

_My heart beats loudly, filling my body with poisoned blood. I yearn for him. I pine for him, I know I do. I can’t escape that. This poison that fills me, it’s an invading force, but it tastes so sweet and feels so warm. It’s intoxicating._

My arms start to shake. My blood begins to stir. I already know what’s happening, but I wouldn’t dare stop it.

_I thought he just wanted me to comply with his advances. But now… now I’m making the advances. It’s too twisted. But I can’t help it. He’s too much. I can’t keep away. Fuck, I’m in too deep. But drowning feels too good._

_He’s just a boy, really. He’s almost small in the way he acts and he reminds me of a young child. And when I get to handle him like this, like I’m protecting him, or guiding him, or simply caring for him, it gives me this kind of fuzzy feeling in my chest that I’ve never felt before. When he settles himself so trustingly in my care, I feel something like pride, because I get to show him how trustworthy I can be._

Dan is staring up at me expectantly, anticipatingly. There’s a glint of something in his eye. I think he knows.

_A spark, some new feeling, ignites from within my chest, and in response my back straightens confidently. I’m in control right now. I’ve never been in control before. I tug him closer, needing him closer, and to my surprise Dan falls submissively into my hold. His hands even reach for mine and squeeze me tightly. This feels right. It’s not scary when I’m the dominant one. And this is what Dan wants, isn’t it?_

He’s always known. Ever since the beginning. He knew he could do it - that was his plan.

Has he succeeded?

_“Tell me:” I practically gulp in worry. “Do you want to fuck me?” My heart jumps anticipatingly in my chest. “No, here’s a better question: how badly do you want to fuck me?”_

I feel myself being tugged down, like he’s reeling me into him, and I don’t resist: I fall helplessly and desperately into his ultimatum.

_“I’d never done any of those things for anyone else - until you. And those are things that will belong to you for the rest of time.”_

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, brief/weak implications of non-con (only at the start and end), smut (sex!), implications of death/murder, drugging**

I take a long, slow, and wavering breath.

“Go on,” Dan prompts me. “I won’t risk forcing you through this. You have to take the lead.”

Still, I bite my lip nervously. “But I… I don’t know what to do.” It’s not just that, as true as those words are. I’m terrified: terrified, whilst desperate, to give in to a part of myself that I don’t even know for certain is real and healthy. As much as I have to let go, to get through this, that won’t save me from what comes after. And letting go of inhibition like this is far more difficult that in seems. Because Dan might be attractive, and there are wants and urges for him in my head, but that isn’t enough to overwhelm anxiety.

Dan’s hands reach up to comb through the hairs at the back of my head, encouraging me slightly closer. “Sure you do. You start by kissing me. Let that relax you.” I let out a sigh, believing him, wanting to believe him. “Like it always relaxes you.” I’m pulled slightly closer. I can feel his breath, lightly, on my lips, like a drug. “Like all those times you wanted me.”

I don’t resist as Dan pulls my head into his. I don’t struggle to move away when his lips touch mine. I’m pushing more forwards than back - that doesn’t mean I’m accelerating, just slowing down from reverse. I let Dan kiss me, keeping me close, guiding me and helping me. I eventually reach stationary, no longer trying to resist, moving my lips timidly against his. He knows me by now - he knows how I work in these circumstances, how I kiss, how I work with intimacy. There’s no reason for me to feel shy with him. Right now, with Dan, I’ll be the safest I’ve ever been.

His lips part slightly, inviting me, encouraging me further, and I oblige - meeting his tongue with mine. It’s like I’m wrapping myself around him, our bodies entwining and merging together, cementing with intimacy. It’s like I’m falling into him. It’s like I can feel my worries slipping away.

I pull my mouth away from his, taking in a well-needed breath, when my eyes set on his throat - soft, bare, and exposed before me. It almost makes me want to lick my lips and drool. Dan, as if anticipating this desire of mine, lets out a needy purr and tilts his head to the side, presenting himself to me.

“It’s funny,” he tells me in a whisper. “You always go for my neck.”

I stall myself for a moment. “It’s not just me,” I inform him. “You do it too.”

Dan hums in agreement with that. “But you know that it affects me more. Don’t you?”

I hum in agreement with that.

When words fail us, I succumb to the urge and press my lips to his exposed skin - the touch instantly causes him to let out a soft moan. The skin is soft and warm, and the gentle throb of his heart making his blood pump through his arteries is faint against my lips, like a metronomic lullaby. I could fall into him, into that bloodstream, sinking with every second, every beat of his heart, every wave of warmth that floods through him. That could become me - or I’ll become it. The warmth of his body. The waves. The force of his life, in this moment. I could sink into him in the sense of filling him up. Rather than losing myself inside him, I’ll be conscious and composed, taking him over, overwhelming him. He’ll become mine at the same time that I become his - merged together, like one, two separate entities entwined into each other’s bodies. God, his flesh is so warm.

I draw away.

“You’re so sensitive,” I breathe out. “I’ve never realised that before.”

Dan lets out a soft, almost stifled whine, and threads his fingers through my hair again. “You’ve never let yourself do this before,” he tells me. “That’s why.” Well, maybe I should pay more attention to him.

I lean back, contently, into his neck, taking his skin under my lips gently. I brush them carefully, subtly, like feathers, up beneath his ear, and it earns me a quiet and helpless whine: he’s defenceless under me, vulnerable. Subjected entirely to my touch. I gently, generously, kiss the skin there, and Dan’s fingers fall limp in my hair. His skin is like poison against my lips - considering this, there’s more: his breath is like poison gas; his noises and voice are like a siren’s desperate and enticing song; his grip, needy and begging, is like a drug, encouraging me; and him, as a whole, he’s like the ocean, pulling me under, filling me, drowning me, overwhelming me, making himself all I know and pushing escape out of sight. I’ve been caught. And it will only get worse. His love is an infection, of body, mind, and soul. One bite, one grip, and you’re a goner.

Dan’s hand falls to my neck, his other nowhere to be seen. I move my mouth down, following an extruding part of his throat, and very carefully, I press my teeth into it. It makes him cry out quietly. His fingers tighten on my skin, the back of my neck, but fail to seize anything stable. I then start to suck gently, adding pressure to his sensitive flesh, creating a bite - marking my possession. And he keens. I think I feel, or at least hear, his hips buck slightly, or his thighs clench together. He’s definitely easy to please.

“Phil,” he whines softly. “Phil, please.” I pull away. He turns his head back to me, shining those gleaming eyes at me, silently pleading. I can guess he’s already hard. I feel pressure from the heel of his hand against the back of my neck. “I want you,” he admits shyly. The confession makes my heart swell. Why do those simple words affect me like this? Because I know he means it. His motivation - desperation - is clear. I already know he’s vocally expressive in these scenarios - how did I not realise that it’s like a truth drug to him? He cries my name because he  _needs_  me, because I’m all he can think about, because it’s what he desperately wants.

I press my lips to his, letting myself fall into him, letting myself oblige him. I can feel the heat growing between us. His breath is already beginning to waver.

Dan’s second hand appears again, from what I think was a submissive and non-intervening rest. It plays curiously up my thigh - the unharmed one - and I don’t object to its exploration. Then, it reaches the front of my boxers, and his heel presses timidly into my crotch, and it pushes an unexpected moan from me. I pull our mouths apart as he continues, generously palming my growing erection. My head falls against his chest in helplessness.

“You want me too,” Dan whispers against my head. I don’t deny it - instead, I’m moaning softly, stifled, into his collar, as though he might not hear it, might not know my shame. “Don’t be scared of it. Embrace it.” I want to follow his words, because I know he’s talking sense. For this moment, he’s my mind, and my composure. “You remember, don’t you? How good it feels to want me, to be good.” I nod slowly, stroking my hair along the base of his neck. “Remember. When you’ve enjoyed me. Our first, that first day, in the shower.” My body shivers at the memory. “And the next, when you taught me how to please you with my mouth.” He was good at that. Not so much any expertise or experienced skill, but his pure desire to be enough for me. More than enough. “Remember our showers. Remember how much you’ve enjoying pleasing me, and taking pleasure from me. You liked it, didn’t you?”

I let out a gasping moan. “I always liked it,” I struggle out. “I never told you. But I did.”

Dan hums at that, pleased. “I knew, I always knew you did. You could never hide that from me. Your body is far too expressive.” Unconsciously, my hips are bucking into his touch, desperate, begging. “I knew from the shower - when you picked me up, and practically fucked me against the wall - it became obvious how much you wanted me like that.” My body groans at the thought. “Like this,” Dan corrects.

I remember.

_I reach my hands down, wrapping round the backs of his thighs, and lift his legs up from the ground and wrap them tightly round my waist. Dan lets out a squeal at my gesture and grasps nervously at my back, holding on tightly._

_“It’s alright,” I reassure him, pressing another kiss to his neck. “I won’t let you fall.”_

_I work our hips together, our bare erections rubbing together to produce the sweetest sensations and the sweetest sounds from his mouth. As I keep going, feeling my breath growing short, Dan’s already whimpering, his fingers digging desperately into my shoulder blades._

_“Phil, please,” he cries. I keep working my mouth on his throat. I already know he likes it. I start letting groans and grunts slip from my lips, unable to ignore how strongly Dan’s flustered state affects me too. “Oh fuck… Phil…”_

_I let his name fall helplessly from my mouth. There’s no shame in it anymore. I revel in the way it tastes on my tongue._

“It was then,” Dan tells me, “that I knew what you wanted from this, with me. You want to dominate me.”

I groan, but try to correct him. “It’s not just that.” I break it with a sigh, Dan’s fingers squeezing me daringly. “It’s not dominance that gets me off. It’s you - when you’re helpless and overwhelmed, and when you’re whimpering under me. That’s what I love.”

He nods at that. “Then make it real, Phil. You know how easy it will be.” His hips start to twist helplessly, frustrated, beneath me. “ _Please_. I need it. Make me yours.”

I couldn’t resist if I had to.

I move my body down, his hands falling to his side again. I sit myself back on his legs and my hands reach for the bottom of his shirt, tugging upwards, and Dan aids me by raising his arms up by his head as I pull it completely off. Then I lean down, pressing my mouth to the centre of his chest, making Dan whimper. I don’t know if I’ve ever had this opportunity before, for exploration. This feels new to me. Maybe Dan has never given himself to my control like this before - scared, maybe? Untrusting? It all makes sense.

I trail these kisses down the centre line of his body, marking him, taking him in, making sure I know everything I’m dealing with. I keep going until I’ve slid down his legs and my lips have reached the top of his joggers. I sit myself back up on my heels as I slip my fingers beneath the fabric and tug it down his legs. Once off his feet, and left discarded on the floor, I climb back over Dan’s body, glancing up, and seeing him - eyes wide, looking nervous, with a hand to his mouth, his fingers slightly shaking, propping his upper back up with his other hand.

“Phil…” he whispers quietly. It’s like he’s surprised by what we’ve got ourselves into, like this wasn’t his plan, mutually agreed. “I know… I know that you’re nervous, because it’s your first time, but… But I’m scared too. I don’t want this to go wrong. I don’t want this to hurt.” He reaches his hand forward from his mouth and grasps mine tightly. “Please tell me it’ll be okay.”

I cover his hand with my other and squeeze reassuringly. “Dan, it’s okay. This is for you.” He smiles kindly, appreciative. “You’ve let me have control and I’ll make sure everything’s perfect for you.” I bring his hand up to my lips and kiss it gently, which makes his cheeks flush pink. Then he finally lets go, and lays himself back down on the floor.

I reposition myself, drawing his underwear down his legs and pushing his thighs apart carefully before I kneel between them. Dan’s hand is by his mouth again as he watches me, nervous.

“Do you have any lube or something?” I ask him quietly. He nods timidly, pointing to the table. So I reach up, ignoring the knife, and endless supply of cloth and rope and cuffs for restraint, and a bottle I can’t see the label of, until I’ve reached the lube and condoms - do I need one? I don’t know. It’s best just to be safe. I take them both in my hands and retract, back into position before him.

God, he looks so nervous.

I work the lube onto my hand carefully, rubbing it between my fingers, and at the sight, or the implications, I suppose, Dan lets out an unexpected squeal. So I reach my left hand to him and link our fingers together, alternately. We’ve never held hands like this before - have we even really held hands? I thought that was simple something couples do outside, to the eyes of other people, strangers. Hand-holding is a mutual gesture, and this love is not equally reciprocated. Or is it? I can’t say I know. Dan may not love me at all. Or maybe I really do love him.

“It’s okay,” I reassure him. “I won’t hurt you.”

He nods his head quickly, bravely. “I trust you,” he squeaks back, squeezing my hand.

I press my finger in slowly, singing to him like a lullaby to a child, asking him to relax. Dan complies.

“Have you, umm,” I try to ask him. “Have you ever, maybe, done this yourself?”

Dan nods, unashamed. “A couple of times. When I’ve been thinking of you.” I was wrong - a blush grows instantly on his face. Maybe it’s not shame, or regret, at what he’s done, but the idea of me finding out. Or maybe it’s something else that he’s thinking about, something similar that he’s done, that he hasn’t told me. He has toys - he’s shown me himself. Perhaps it’s that he’s thinking about. I almost want to ask him about it. But I resist - I won’t be able to get the image out of my head otherwise.

After a moment, I add the second, and Dan keens. I can’t tell whether it’s in pain or pleasure - I don’t know what it feels like. So I stop, worried for him - I did promise not to hurt him - but then I get my answer: Dan whines in frustration and starts to twist his hips, pleading for me, and so I resume, working my fingers in and out of him, and taking in his sweet little moans.

I almost laugh at his reaction. “You really like this, don’t you?” He nods eagerly. I decide to twist my fingers slightly, exploring, trying a different angle, but not that it matters because Dan keeps wiggling his hips regardless. I want to pin them down so he can let me work him, let me have control over what he feels. The power of that urge takes me by surprise - I’ve never felt a desire like that before. It’s ridiculously, almost impossibly, compelling.

“Phil, please,” he begs of me. His hand is squeezing tighter. “I need you. I’m ready for you.”

I withdraw my hand, agreeing with him.

Without another word between us, I position myself between his legs, one of my hands on his hip, the other, my right, slipping the condom on and covering it with lube, plenty of it, because I’ve never had to do anything like this before. All I know is the word  _tight_ and I don’t know how dense I am, or how big or small I am, if I’ll even fit. I could hurt him or not satisfy him. Would Dan leave me if I suck at this, if I’m too small? He’s leaving anyway. That’s the deal. Why would I care if he falls out of love anyway?

It’s strange. This deal. This obligation, consented,  _wanted_ , sort of. At first I was adamant, against. Then I was terrified. Now, I’ve turned right round. It’s incredible. It’s like, now that he’s going, I might actually miss him. I want to savour this moment, our last share of intimacy, before he leaves. I want to make this the best -  _our_ best. I want to be memorable to him.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath, to prepare myself. Then I push myself inside. Both of us let out a strong sigh at the feeling and I fall down against Dan’s chest again: he’s so warm, it’s perfect. I’ve never felt anything like this before. He’s trying to get used to me, so he’s clenching, relaxing, whether or not any of it’s conscious, and I swear that alone could send me over.

“Fuck,” we both cry, breathless, speechless. This is new to both of us.

I make sure I’m as far inside as I can be, as I’ll ever get, before stopping. Then I turn my head into his neck, making sure Dan can hear me.

“Are you okay?” I struggle out, feeling overwhelmed myself. Dan simply whines and nods his head. “How long do you want?” I won’t dare hurt him.

He swallows. “It’s fine,” he answers confidently. “Don’t wait.”

I raise my eyebrows, concerned. “Are you sure?” Again, he nods quickly. I don’t push it - honestly, I’m desperate to keep going myself.

So I move: I retract, slowly, careful with him, then press forwards again, both of us moaning softly in satisfaction. We can’t last long, that’s far too obvious.

His hands reach up to mine, slipping beneath, linking our fingers together and squeezing gently. I squeeze back, worried that I’m going to press them too hard into the floor.

“Phil,” Dan cries, the pitch of his voice slightly higher and more fragile than normal. “I want to kiss you.”

I comply, reaching up and pressing my lips against his. We don’t hesitate to play our tongues against each other. I find it hard to concentrate, both tongue and hips having to work. But the lower part is practically autonomic now, and I never considered that before.

I pull away, without thinking, retracting from Dan completely. My arms wrap around his ribs to pull us both up, backs straight. Dan almost squeals in surprise, but he complies regardless, his legs wrapping tightly round my hips, his arms hooked round my shoulders, holding himself close. My hands lay on his hips as I encourage him onto me again, and Dan, now on top of me, before me, leans his head back and parts his lips in a silent moan. And so I work him here, my fingers digging into the flesh of his hips, thrusting up into him and he grinds himself down. Dan’s hands wrap around the back of my head, holding my closer to me, like he could attach himself to me if he tried hard enough. His cock, hard and desperate, rubs helplessly between our stomachs, so I strengthen my grip, bringing him closer to increase the friction.

“Phil… Phil, I - ” Dan lets out a involuntarily gasp. His whole body is trembling. I can’t say I’m any more composed - in fact, I’m probably worse. This position was a terrible idea - I’m probably going to fall. “Please, I can't…”

I shush him gently, as softly as I can, between grunts. I want to finish this for him, make it good. I wonder if this is how Dan feels about me, all the time, wanting to please me.

 _Fuck_ \- I squeeze him tighter. This is too much. I can’t take much more. He’s too tight, too warm, his body is practically sweating against mine, he’s too close, too clingy, too tight. Those noises of his are going to kill me.

Dan stills suddenly, letting out a squeal, I feel him release between us. His climax makes him clench and I gasp, not ready for such a feeling - it drags me over instantly, and I groan helplessly, overwhelmed. Dan’s back lengthens and arches, but his head is still ducked into my shoulder. He’s biting down into my collar, but I don’t mind. We’re both shaking, both overwhelmed. Heat is rushing through me as I suppose a volcano might feel when it erupts.

And then we relax, sighing, still clinging to each other. We’re coming down now. It’s over. I did it.

I help lead us both to the floor again before withdrawing myself, discarding the waste quickly and pulling my underwear back on. Dan grabs a cloth from the table above us and wipes us both down, mumbling a small apology about my stomach, which I just wave away -  _don’t worry about it,_ is what I think I mumble back.

As Dan gets up onto his feet, to grab his clothes again, I let myself roll onto my side, exhausted, barely able to catch my breath.

I feel my body pulling in on itself, curling up, my limbs being pulled into my chest. The pull, the force, is from my stomach. It makes my muscles shake.  _Shame. Regret._  Those are the emotions of this pull, that overwhelm my body. But it’s okay, I tell myself. This is a physical reaction, immediate. It will fade soon. Painfully, agonisingly, and with waves of tears, but it will fade. I’d asked for this. I’d accepted it. And I had finished it, with my full consent. Regret is not an emotion I should be feeling, once my body eventually listens to my brain. But still, I know, that it is listening, even now. For the immediate reaction. I didn’t study psychology too much but I’ve heard Dan talk about it: there are two kinds of reactions to stimuli - one is a reflex, the other, considered. The first is more physical. But it isn’t absent of the brain’s instructions - in fact, the reflex comes straight from the brain, in some form. The body already knows to react like that. It’s the brain’s basic logic. The immediate reaction is, in a way, the most accustomed response to the stimulus. So I can’t ignore this feeling, the shaking, the pull. But I don’t want to think about it much; I know what it’s telling me.

I take a few deep, still shaky breaths. I’ve decided. I won’t count this, what we’ve just done. After this day is done, it will hardly be a memory. It will never have happened. That’s what I’ll tell people once I get out of here - that Dan and I never did anything like that, and I’m still very much a virgin. No one will ever have to know. Even Peej. He won’t even remember this. Hopefully.

A strange noise rouses me from my thoughts, my solitude. At first, it sounds like a low drone. Then maybe a breathing problem, so I look over my shoulder. Dan’s leaning against the kitchen counter, clothed just as before, right where Peej still lays, drink in hand, smiling. Chuckling.

“You know,” he says to me, loud and clear. He knows Peej isn’t waking up anytime soon. “You really do never change. You’ve always been gullible - do you know that?”

I frown at him, which only makes him laugh.

“There’s no way you never knew. Oh, it’s been my pleasure to play with that about you! Have you seriously never realised?” He cocks his head. “Do you genuinely think that I’ve always been honest with you?”

I can’t say anything. I just stare at him.

“I’ve told you lie after lie, since the day we first starting talking. You never knew that I loved you. You didn’t know that I was planning to come up here. I even once told you I was homeless. I’ve convinced you endlessly that I’ve been the victim of homophobic abuse. Honestly? I can’t remember the times that I’ve truly been honest with you.”

He takes a swig of his drink and places the empty cup down on the counter, leaning back casually.

“I was never going to leave you after this.” My heart drops to my stomach in horror. “And you seriously thought that I would. I love you, Phil! I’ve loved you for a long time now. You thought I’d give up that easily? Did you really think so little of me?” He sighs, in a laugh, and shakes his head in disbelief. “You truly have a gift for blindness. I’m never going to give up on you - you can put your faith in that. I’ll persevere until my heart gives out.”

I wonder, in that moment, if that’s exactly how it’s going to go.

Maybe this feeling, this horridness, in my stomach, had known this secret of his all along.

“But don’t worry,” Dan tells me. “You won’t be alone. We share the same friends now.”

I dare a glare at him then. “You’re kidding,” I spit. “Peej isn’t your friend.” Dan laughs at that and pushes himself off the counter, kneeling down in front of Peej’s empty, helpless body. “He despises you.”

“So did you,” Dan counters confidently. “At one point. And look what I’ve managed to accomplish.”

That horrid feeling worms its way back into my stomach and I cringe, glancing away.

“I won’t keep him,” he continues, quietly and almost to himself. “Hmm… unless. Unless he remembers. Because I can’t risk him getting word out about what I’ve been doing here. You, I wouldn’t mind. You wouldn’t say anything.” I want to counter that, but I keep my mouth tightly shut, because he’s right - I didn’t even tell Peej. “But Peej… I don’t know. He’s got this certain…  _air_  about him. He’s a fighter. Maybe I’m not quite ready for him.”

Dan turns back to me then, walking back over, and settling down in front of me. I keep my head turned away from him.

“So, here’s the deal: when you wake up, Peej will either remember, or he won’t. If he doesn’t, then I need you to help him leave, unless you want him to stay trapped here with you.” He strokes his fingers down my cheek and I’m helpless to pull away. “But, if he remembers, then he stays here. With both of us. I’ll figure out what to do with him in that scenario - after all, he’s still disposable.”

His hand grasps my jaw in his right hand and forces me to look at him. And, not to my surprise, or apparently his either, I can’t help the tears that fall from my eyes.

“Please don’t hurt him,” I cry to him. “You promised. If I did this, you’d let him go free.”

Dan simply smiles at me - it’s a grin of  _bless_ and smug victory. “Oh Phil. I already told you: I lie _a lot_.”

He presses his left hand against my mouth, holding that cloth to me just like he did with Peej. I try to struggle, but it quickly overwhelms me, and I fall asleep - once again - in Dan’s arms.

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, mentions of drugging, hostage situation, violence, threats of death, tying up/restraint**

I wake up before he does.

Usually,  _he_ would be referring to Dan. Because, as he said, there’s no one else it could mean. But now there’s two - Dan and Peej. In this instance, it’s the latter.

He lays before me, facing me, like a mirror. His eyes are closed sweetly, and he’s still breathing, very slowly. I can tell he’s there this time, inside, behind those closed eyelids. I couldn’t when Dan had taken him out. He seems almost empty then. But maybe that’s just my own perception, a reflection of my own fears: he’s not there when I need him, and here when I don’t want him to be.

That’s a half-lie. Of course I want him here - I don’t want to be alone with Dan. But, for his safety, I’d rather Peej as far away from me as possible. Because wherever I am, Dan is there too. And Dan means him harm. They’re a danger to each other.

Peej’s eyes flutter open, and he fixes on me straight away. He frowns slightly, probably confused, his limbs stirring beneath the covers. I know what he’s thinking - his limbs, are they free?

Shit. He remembers.

I know there are cameras in here. I can’t scream at him to run while he can, because who knows how close Dan is, if he’s watching right now, from outside that door. Maybe he doesn’t even plan on letting Peej leave, and this is just another one of his tricks, watching me dance like a puppet or pet on his screen. He’s got two now - won’t that be fun for him?

“Hey,” I whisper to him carefully. I try warning him with my eyes, we’re good at that.  _Don’t freak out,_ I try telling him.  _Don’t say anything._  “Did you sleep okay?” Think, a hint, something that will tell him we’re not talking about what happened before, that we’re pretending - he already knows that I can remember. “You must be hungover - we had a lot to drink last night, didn’t we?”

Peej’s eyes flash at me then, understanding. No - there’s more, there’s fear too. He knows that means we’re being watched.

“I guess we did…” he mumbles back. He sits himself up, letting the covers fall down from his chest, as he brings a hand to his head. I almost want to nod with him, let him know that I understand his pain - I’ve felt similar things when Dan has drugged me.

“Thank you,” I blurt out. “For being there for me.” Maybe there’s two applications of that. “But I don’t want to burden you with my problems anymore. You’ve got a life to get back to.” And that one’s for Dan. I try showing Peej a smile. “I’ll be okay.”

But it doesn’t work - at least, the message might have gotten across, but Peej is far more stubborn than I’d like him to be right now. “You can’t say that!” he whispers at me harshly. “You can’t do this on your own. I’m not leaving you.”

I try to warn him, glaring at him worriedly -  _you’ll alarm him if you talk like that._  But Peej’s not wasting time - he grabs my arm and drags me out of bed, over to the window - I can see where this is going -

“No!” I cry, trying to pull him back. “We can’t!”

“I’m not stupid, Phil! I can’t leave you here and pretend like you’re not in danger.” He’s rushing, panicking. He tries the window, but it’s locked. So he raises his elbow to hit it -

The door swings open. I already know who it is.

“Now, Peej…” Dan sings with a pout, tutting, stepping towards us. Peej’s looking over at him, over my shoulder. His arm drops in defeat.  _Now you’ve done it,_  I think with a upset sigh. I look up at him, and he looks at me. I show him a sad look.  _I’m sorry,_ I show him.  _I tried to save you._  But now it’s too late.

Dan stop walking. “Let him go,” I hear him order. Peej complies immediately. Neither of us move after that. “Phil.” My heart skips a beat - will he blame me for this? Will I be punished? “Sit on the bed for me.” I sigh in relief, sort of, probably prematurely. His voice doesn’t indicate anything bad for me. So I obey, taking my place on the bed - it isn’t my bed, I should have mentioned. It’s my parents, the one we were sharing before -  _we_ being Peej and me.

Dan walks over to me, kneels down in front of me. I gulp briefly, worried of his intentions. He pulls his backpack out from under the bed. Unzipping it, he pulls out a pair of handcuffs. This time, at the sight, I sigh because I’m disappointed. I don’t want to be restrained anymore - I’m getting bored of it, this never-ending cycle of Dan not trusting me. He secures them round my ankles, to which I don’t resist or say a word. Then he retrieves another pair, looking to me expectantly. I hold my arms out to him, my hands drooping, presenting him with my wrists. He secures them together, too.

Then he takes out another two pairs and moves over to Peej. He’s not moving, as I suspected - where could he go now? There must still be the threat of disposal, for him, looming in the air whenever Dan comes near him. I suppose it’s worse for him than any of us.

“Try anything,” Dan warns him sharply, “and I’ll hurt you.” Peej nods in understanding, gulping subtly.

He stands perfectly, almost rigidly still, as Dan restrains him with the cuffs - ankles and wrists, just like me. Neither of us will be getting any special treatment, then.

“I’ll move you back into your room in a bit, Phil,” Dan tells me. All emotion has been lost from his voice, and his expression, so I really can’t tell whether he’s angry with me or not.

Then he turns to Peej, as he stands himself up, towering over him slightly - Dan may just be shorter than me, but we’re both taller than Peej. “Come,” Dan tells him. “I’ll help you walk.” Peej looks down at his ankles, in their surely-impossible-to-walk-in restraint. He’s refusing to look at me. “I would carry you, like I do with Phil - ” I don’t say anything to that “ - but I’m sure you’d rather I didn’t touch you too much.”

I see Peej swallow - that’s confirmation, then. He must wonder if Dan’s perverted tendencies branch out beyond me. I don’t blame him, but it relieves me to know that, in that regard, he’s safe.

Dan wraps a tentative arm around Peej’s waist, his fingers carefully securing themselves on him, pressing down firmly - I can see it, and practically feel it, but I know it’s not a real feeling: mirror neurons, Dan told me about those too.

Peej, just as tentatively, begins to try walking. Even I haven’t walking like that yet. The circle is small - the chain is too short - and his steps are incredibly restricted. It would almost be comical, if I didn’t feel entirely sorry for him. Dan leads him to the door - Peej still refuses to look at me, his head is even drooped for once. He opens it and takes Peej outside.

“I’ll call you down in a minute!” Dan calls back, almost cheerily, into the room, before he closes the door behind him, locking it shut. I wonder what he means. Call me down? For what? I look at the clock by my bed - it’s nearly five o'clock.

Silence fills the house, and I’m left alone. I don’t know how long this will last. What’s Dan doing? What’s going to happen to Peej? He might be taken away now, taken from me,  _disposed of_ , as Dan would put it. I wish I could help. He must be so afraid. It’s strange, seeing him scared. Seeing a reflection. I thought only I could be capable of such broken emotions.

A thud, the clinking of metal - my back straightens in worry. But still, only silence. My heart’s beating faster than before. I wish I could see - no, I wish I could  _know_ , I don’t want to see it.

Time passes. Still nothing. He might already be dead.

“Phil!” Dan calls to me. I shoot myself up, legs quivering, hardly able to stand. I’m both desperate to go down and see, and terrified, reluctant to go. I want to see him - see him  _alive_ , I don’t want to see anything different. Would Dan do that? Try to break me that way? Make him my coping mechanism, make me dependent on him maybe? That would twisted. And yet, that’s how I know Dan to be.

The door unlocks, and slides open. Dan’s head pops round the corner. He’s got a smile on his face. Not of smug victory, or anything malicious or knowing. Kind. Loving, as always.

“Come,” he beckons, holding out his hand. I try waddling over, in my restraints, feeling silly, keeping my head down. Now I know how Peej feels. But my legs are still shaking, unstable, and I collapse - Dan catches me, in his arms, safely. He smiles down at me, with concern on his face.

“Don’t worry,” he tells me quietly. “These won’t last long. I still trust you.” Should I thank him for that?

He helps me stand. Then he taps his hand on his shoulder, signalling. Timidly I comply, lifting my arms and resting them over his head, round his neck. He pulls me closer. Then his arms secure me - one round the back, one under my knees - and Dan lifts me from the floor. He’s gotten stronger.

I’m carried out of the room, into the hallway, and down the stairs. Dan places me back on the floor once we’re downstairs, and I lift my arms from round him. But he keeps his arms round me, hooked round my waist, helping me to the kitchen.

He leads me inside. And there, I see Peej, and my body’s worry flushes out of my body in relief. He’s okay. Well, mostly. As Dan leads me to my seat, I can’t help but keep my eyes on him. He’s been cuffed to the chair, one set round each ankle, securing them to the legs of the chair, no more on his wrists. Dan sits me down and kneels, holding my ankle against the wood, about to do the same with me. This feels like a doll’s house now. We’re here for Dan to play with. We’re silent, unmoving, without free will.

I look at Peej’s face: black eye, on the left. My left. It’s already swelling and turning dark. He looks away from me then, looking down. I glance to his throat - red, as well, like it’s been squeezed. I try not to imagine Dan’s hands being there. My own throat tingles in empathy. He’s getting violent, now. That’s a scary thought. I look down at Peej’s hands, hidden beneath the table. His fingers fold into each other. They’re shivering. Trauma. He won’t move besides that.

I look to Dan, who’s humming to himself as he works at the oven. Unfazed. It’s like nothing ever happened in here.

He walks over to us and places a plate in front of us on the table. We both stare down at the food: pasta and garlic bread. A chill runs up my spine when I realise why it’s here: it was the first meal Peej and I had. So Dan must know everything.

Dan brings over his own plate, spreads the knives and forks over the table, and takes his own seat opposite me. Peej sits on the end between us, in my old seat at the head of the table. So Dan can keep an eye on him. He show us all a smile.

“Look at us,” he exclaims. Peej still doesn’t look up. “Having dinner together. It’s the start of something good, don’t you think?”

No one answers him.

He takes his own cutlery - signalling for us to do the same. Strange that  _us_ now refers to me and Peej. We’re separate to him. He’s above us. I take my cutlery and start to dig in -

Peej’s hand grabs mine tightly. “Don’t,” he seethes. He’s finally looking at me. “You trust him? You don’t think he’s poisoned, or at least drugged, this food?”

Dan sighs and shakes his head.

His eyes are pleading at me. “Please, Phil. I don’t trust him.”

“Peej - ” Dan intervenes.

“Shut it!” Surprisingly, Dan shuts his mouth. “I’m not going to sit here and play happy families just because you’ve got me hostage!”

Nerves start to shake my body. It makes me feel sick.

“Why should I do anything for you? Being obedient won’t do me any good and I know that. You’ll just kill me anyway, so what’s the point? I’m not going to amuse you by dancing around to your every word - ”

“Peej!” I yell, making him back up in his chair. My hands are shaking. His grip is too tight, it’s burning. “Please,” I beg. “You’re making this difficult.”

I glance at Dan. Even he looks surprised.

I sigh, trying to expel my ill-feelings, like vomit, from my lungs. “You can trust him. As long as you give him a reason to trust you, you can trust him. Dan isn’t irrational.” I can’t bear to look at either of them. I must sound so silly. “You just have to trust yourself that you won’t upset him. So  _please,_  just have dinner.”

No one says anything to that. Peej’s hand withdraws. Everyone sits back in their seats.

We finish up dinner without another word. I don’t look anywhere but my own plate, as I guess Peej might do too. Dan, I don’t know, maybe he’s watching us both. Maybe he’s smiling. Maybe he likes seeing us like this.

Once finished, Dan takes our plates away. Then he kneels in front of me and returns my restraints to their original position - no, he leaves me ankles bear. That makes me smile - internally, of course. He smiles back at me.

“I’ll help you to bed,” he says softly. I nod, giving permission, telling him that’s okay with me. He wraps his arm around my waist as he leads me out of the kitchen - I glance back to Peej, still restrained there. He looks less scared now. Just sad. Disappointed, probably, in what I’ve become: I must seem like Dan’s lap dog to him. I suppose he would be right.

Dan waits for me to use the bathroom, clean up, and change, and tucks me into bed.

He kisses the top of my head, like I’m his child. “Goodnight, Phil,” he sings sweetly. Then he steps away from the bed. I frown at that.

“Wait!” I call. “Aren’t you…?” Staying with me, is what I want to say.

He shakes his head, not even looking sad. “Peej’s still downstairs.” Oh. I’d forgotten about him. “It’s his first night here, with us. You know what I mean.” I nod slowly: his first night aware, is what Dan means. “I’m going to help him settle in with us tonight. But don’t worry - you can have me back soon.” He talks like he’s a prize, that me and Peej both want, that we’re having to share. I guess I do kind of want him for myself. I don’t want him near Peej.

Dan smiles as he switches off the light and locks the door behind him.

I can’t know what he meant by helping Peej ‘settle in’, because Peej is going to be far from settled. I wonder how Dan is treating him. That’s stupid, Phil, you’ve seen it first-hand.

_He releases me, and I fall to my side, clutching my neck and spluttering weakly to catch my breath. My body is still shivering. I won’t recover from this quickly at all._

_“Do you understand?” Dan tells me. His voice isn’t as soft and childish as it usually is. “I’ve let you breathe. I’ve let you live. Don’t forget that.”_

My hand gently wraps round my neck, feeling for the bruises. They’re faint now. Peej can probably still see them. Is that what Dan was doing? Trying to coerce Peej into good behaviour like he did with me? It’s likely. More than likely with Peej - the threat of death hangs high above his head.

_“Being obedient won’t do me any good and I know that. You’ll just kill me anyway, so what’s the point?”_

Maybe it didn’t work the way Dan wanted it to. Peej isn’t like me. As Dan said, he’s a fighter.

Still. He’s getting somewhere with him. He’s silent sometimes.

Hopefully Peej will come around. Or get out of here. I really wish he’d never gotten involved.

I fall asleep warily, to the ambiguous sound of silence throughout the house.

When I wake up, Dan still isn’t with me. But he’s yelling my name from downstairs.

“Wake up already! It’s time for breakfast!”

I groan, rolling to check the time: ten o'clock. It’s definitely time to get up then.

I don’t change out of my pyjamas - mainly because Dan was here last night to remove my restraints that let me get changed - and head sleepily downstairs and immediately to the kitchen. Inside, I see Dan cooking at the hot plates - pancakes, as usual - and Peej already sitting in his seat. This surprises me. He’s changed and ready for the day, he’s not restrained to his chair, and he doesn’t looking angry anymore. In fact, if anything, he just looks… calm.

Dear lord, what has Dan done to him?

“Are you okay, Peej?” I ask him quietly as I take my seat.

Peej turns his head to me and nods, showing me a smile. I don’t know what to feel about that. Is he… is Peej content with being here now? I feel a little relieved - we don’t have to upset Dan anymore, and no one has to get hurt. But I also wonder what’s been done to thing - or if anything has been done at all. Maybe Dan said something. Maybe Peej is only acting. But we’re good at showing each other how we really feel, and he’s not doing that. He genuinely looks quite tranquil.

I shake it off and make myself comfortable.

“Here you go!” Dan sings as he places down the plates of pancakes in front of us. “Me and Peej have already eaten,” he tells me as he takes his seat opposite me. Oh, I think. I’m last up. “But he’s still hungry - aren’t you?”

He puts his hand on Peej’s arm then, in a playful gesture. I feel my heart stop. But Peej doesn’t even flinch - he just nods his head and keeps on eating. Has he really come around, perhaps?

“What did you do, last night?” I ask Dan, as inconspicuously as I can manage. “Where did you sleep?”

Dan smiles at me. “Oh, with Peej!”  _Really?!_ “Not in the same bed, of course. I slept on the floor. He didn’t want me out of his sight.” Well, I can believe that. “But then, when we woke up, he was okay with me. I know - I’m just as surprised as you. But I like it like this.” He threads his fingers through Peej’s hair - another move that makes me flinch - but Peej doesn’t respond. “We can finally be happy altogether. Doesn’t that sound good?”

I can’t take my eyes off Peej. But I nod with Dan, however unsure I am, because I’m certainly relieved.

_Dan walks back down the stairs silently. He’s almost surprised that Peej isn’t making a sound._

_When he reaches the kitchen again, he wants to laugh at the sight: Peej is slumped over the side of his chair, whining quietly, still shaking his wrists subconsciously in an attempt to free them. Dan steps over to him, swings the chair around the face him, and kneels down before him._

_“You were right,” he chuckles. “About the food. But you must have realised that there was nothing you could do about it.”_

_Peej turns his head away from Dan, like that’s the only way he can try to escape him._

_“Only your serving was drugged, though. There was no need to drug Phil, or make him suspicious. Because, unlike you, he’s already well-behaved.” He stands up, towering over his victim. “You, on the other hand, need some work. And I don’t have time like I did with Phil to try and break you.”_

_Dan moves himself over to the side, opens a drawers, and pulls out a bottle and a piece of cloth. It’s only necessary because he can still hear Peej whimpering behind him, still conscious. He thought the sprinkling over the food would be enough, but apparently not._

_“I need immediate results, Peej,” Dan tells him, as he spills some liquid onto the cloth. “This only has to happen because you won’t behave for me. Show me you can behave, and I won’t have to drug you. I won’t even have to kill you.” He walks back over to Peej. The noises have stopped. Dan looks round to his face: he’s fallen asleep. Finally. But also a shame, because Dan likes to monologue._

_He doesn’t waste time to pack his stuff back away in the drawer, locking it tightly, before he unchains Peej’s body from the chair and carries him back upstairs. He’s far lighter than Phil - he’s a lot shorter, which would probably explain that - and that makes him also a dream to carry. Dan takes a little moment to be grateful that he doesn’t have to carry Phil around instead. His good behaviour certainly has its perks._

_He lays the still sleeping Peej onto his bed - Phil’s old parents’ bed, really, but Peej had been staying in here for the past two weeks, so it might as well be Peej’s - and tucks up next to him. He needs to start thinking if his plan is really something he can go through with. It’s going to be a struggle, but it’s not like he really cares about Peej, after all._

_In the morning, Dan wakes him up by holding a steaming mug of tea under his nose until he stirs awake._

_“Morning,” he sings quietly. Peej’s eyes go wide and he tries to struggle, but Dan, already straddling his waist, presses his hand firmly into Peej’s chest to hold him down. “Shh, don’t make a fuss. It’s alright. I’m not here to hurt you.”_

_He places the tea down on the bedside table. Once Peej stops struggling, Dan removes his hand from his chest._

_“Then what are you here for?” Peej asks shyly. Bless, Dan thinks. He’s scared of me. “Hurting me is all you’ve done so far.”_

_Dan pouts. “Well that’s not true. I’ve brought you tea,” he gestures to the mug. “And I made you dinner last night.”_

_Peej stares at the steaming mug for a moment curiously, thinking, then suspiciously. And at the sight, Dan’s lips curl into a smile._

_“Ah, you’re definitely clever,” he laughs. “But you can’t deny that drugging you never hurts you, really.” Dan grabs Peej’s jaw partly soft, partly firm, and makes him face him. “Now, you can probably guess that I can’t force that down your throat. So I’m expecting you to take it willingly.”_

_Peej tries to object but Dan covers his mouth with his palm._

_“Shh,” he repeats softly. “Phil is still asleep,” he warns. “Now I’m not asking you to do this for me - it’s for Phil. You want to be good for him, right?” Peej just glares at him. “Well, you at least don’t want me to hurt him - do you?” His eyes go wide in realisation. “Oh yes. I’m not stupid - I know that hurting you won’t do me any good: not as long as you’re doing it for him. So if you keep being difficult, then I’ll be punishing Phil for it. Is that what you want?”_

_Peej sighs in defeat and glances to the mug on the side. Dan’s smile widens in victory._

_He sits back and lets Peej take the mug for himself, holding it hesitatingly before his lips. “It’s not poison, in case you were wondering. It’s a sedative. It will keep you calm and lower your anxiety, so you don’t flip out in front of Phil.” Peej still won’t move it, so Dan reaches his hand forward and tilts the mug upwards, making the solution pour into Peej’s mouth. “Just remember what Phil said, because he was right: as long as you comply, I won’t hurt either of you. When you take this, you’re safe, and you’re keeping Phil safe too.”_

_Once empty, Dan takes the mug from him and places it down again. Then he leans forwards, runs a hand through Peej’s hair experimentally, and sighs thoughtfully._

_“At least you’re cute…” he mutters. Then he smiles. “That will make this easier.”_

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, hostage situation, mentions of restraint and drugging and knives and violence, brief hint of non-con, panic attack, threats of murder**

Dan doesn’t spend the night with me anymore. I don’t know whether he’s going to see Peej instead, or staring at his camera footage, or if he leaves the house. He might be hurting Peej and I don’t know about it. But I think that can be discounted: Peej seems fairly happy now, and no new bruises or scars have appeared on him since that first night.

In a way, I think I miss him.

Every morning goes the same now - my new routine: wake up alone, go downstairs, find Dan and Peej having breakfast without me, then we usually end up in the living room, either to play games or watch TV - either way, Dan sits on the sofa with Peej instead of me. We all have lunch and dinner together. Then I go for my shower, and Peej follows after for his, meanwhile Dan tucks me into bed. He always seems to wait up to help Peej settle into bed before tucking in himself, from the sounds and light that filter through this house when it’s late. It’s been five days of that now.

The lack of anything obvious or purposeful is starting to make me anxious. Surely Dan hasn’t settled with having Peej with us both forever. But then again, what other . But then again, what other choice is there? Maybe he’s making Peej like him, so that he can leave and be trusted that he won’t tell. That’s the only possibility that makes sense to me.

At lunch, Dan lets Peej cook this time - a daring venture, I believe, or a test. He’s making us sandwiches from what I can see.

“So I watched your videos yesterday, Peej,” Dan calls out of the silence. That’s something we haven’t quite gotten over yet; the long awkward silences when me and Peej don’t dare to say a word. In response, Peej just hums and nods his head, showing that he heard. “I didn’t know you were so creative! Who knew you could post videos other than video logs and funny cats?”

I don’t know whether I’m supposed to laugh or say something to him, but I keep my mouth shut instead. I don’t have anything to say to him - it would only be compliant chatter to please him, like a wind-up doll.

“How come you never told me about him, Phil?”

I shoot my head round. “Huh?”

Dan is grinning. Why is he always doing that? Do we amuse him? “You never mentioned Peej when we were talking. Why’s that? I thought you two were good friends.”

Damn him. He should know I know that he’s seen everything we did whilst he was gone.

Breathe, Phil. Maybe he doesn’t mean that. “I thought I did tell you about him,” I answer with shyly. The threat of violence still lingers in the air around us like the odour of chloroform. Just because he hasn’t hurt me in a long time, doesn’t make me safe.

Dan frowns at that. “What? When did you do that?”

Unconsciously, I find myself shrinking, melting back into my seat. “I thought you said… at the Gathering, that you already knew so much about Peej. You said that I’d told you.” I can’t remember doing it either, but that doesn’t mean it never happened.

To my surprise, Dan’s smile returns. “Ah,” he laughs. “Now I remember. But anyway…” he resumes, clearing his throat. “You make such great videos, Peej. I was thinking it would be a shame to leave your subscribers with nothing for too long. If only you could go home and make some…” He bites his lip tauntingly. Dan must love this - this control, this knowledge of power and subservience on our part, and knowledge of knowing everything. “Or, even better, if you had some already made, right here in this house.”

Yeah. He definitely knows.

Peej sighs, but continues preparing lunch.

And Dan won’t stop smiling. “What a joy. You don’t have to go home for a long time.”

I think he’s expecting a response, because he stares intently at Peej’s back. But he gets nothing. So Dan stands himself up and walks over to him, and I find myself holding my breath in anticipation.

“Hey…” he says softly, wrapping his arm round Peej’s shoulders. He still won’t flinch at the touch. “I haven’t upset you, have I?” Slowly, Peej shakes his head. It makes Dan smile. “That’s good. Because I really do like having you here.”

This is weird. It feels like I’m looking at myself from a few weeks ago, not Peej. It sends a shiver up my spine.

Dan takes the knife - only a small and partially blunt one, he’s not that trusting - out of Peej’s hand and places it on the side. Then I can just about see him put his hand over Peej’s, but surely I’m seeing that wrong. Dan leans in close and seems to whisper something in his ear, and then he pulls away, taking our lunch with him.

Peej takes his seat as Dan dishes out the food - my old place, at the head of the table - and Dan sits opposite me. We eat in silence.

That’s the weirdest thing that’s happened all week, but every day there’s something similar.

The next day, as we sit watching TV, Dan encourages Peej over and curls himself up in his lap, resting his head sweetly on Peej’s thighs. Neither of them say anything about it, acting as though it’s normal, so I don’t say anything either, as much as I want to. Since then, every time we take our places on the sofa, that’s where they position themselves: it’s like Dan doesn’t have a concept of personal space with him anymore.

I’m starting to feel like a third wheel.

Day eight, I think. It’s a Monday. It’s been a week since Dan has come back (I’ve been counting the days this time, but with the amount I can sleep through sometimes, I can’t be certain). It’s night time, and he helps put me to bed.

“Dan,” I call to him quietly, nervously. He raises his eyebrows at me without a sound. “Have I… Did I do something to upset you?”

Dan frowns. “Oh course not. Why would you think that?”

I slip further under my covers. “Well, you haven’t talked to me all day. It’s like you’ve forgotten that I’m even here.” It’s true - he spends most of his time worrying about Peej. He barely even looks at me anymore.

Dan just smiles at me pitifully and pushes himself up. “Don’t be silly,” he taunts. “You know Peej is our guest. Do you want him to feel out of place?”

Well, no, but I’m the one out of place now.

He leans over me to kiss my head - an obligatory gesture now before he disappears for the night. As I feel his lips touch my skin, an overwhelming craving rushes through me and I wrap my arms tightly round Dan’s shoulders, trying to hold him close. He lets out a surprised yelp and tries to pull himself free, but I find myself unwilling to let him go.

“Please stay,” I plead. “I miss you.”

I never thought I’d hear myself say that, for real.

Dan just sighs, clearly irritated. “Let go of me, Phil,” he sneers. I obey immediately. He sharply pulls himself away and withdraws back to the door. I can’t believe this: he doesn’t want me. “Do you really expect to get me like that after the number of times you’ve rejected me?” My face flushes red in shame and I sink lower into my covers. “I don’t pine after you anymore. I don’t need you.”

He shuts the door and locks it behind him. He hasn’t locked it in a while.

How can he not want me anymore? Doesn’t he love me? Or has he fallen away from me entirely? The whole reason I’m trapped here again is because he came back for me! So what has changed? What could possibly have gotten in the way?

I fall asleep anxiously that night.

Peej.

That’s the answer that I wake up to. It’s Peej that’s new. Ever since Dan trapped him here too, he’s drawn his focus away from me, most probably not on purpose. So… So Dan’s interest has turned to Peej. I remember how he liked the concept of me in the beginning:

_“Oh, Phil. I simply wanted to. I couldn’t give up the dream of tying you up like this.”_

He likes this new challenge with Peej, then. He wouldn’t have dared all this if he wasn’t in it for the thrill. That must be why he’s ignoring me.

I keep my eyes open for confirmation as the day goes on: at breakfast, Dan compliments Peej’s cooking (he’s cooking breakfast now?) and stares at him curiously for a long time; when we watch TV, he curls up next to him and runs his hand through Peej’s hair; and every time Peej sits their quietly and permissively, I can see Dan’s smile widen. It makes me feel sick: he’s becoming me again, the exact thing neither of us ever wanted him to stoop to.

As I have my shower, the thought comes to mind of where Dan might be going at night, if it’s never my room: it must be Peej’s then. Dan might just sit there, staring at him - he always gets a kick out of that.

As I step out, I decide that I have to see for myself. At least, I have to see where Dan is right now.

I walk out of the bathroom, and this time Peej isn’t outside waiting. It shouldn’t panic me - it’s just a silly routine after all - but at least, it worries me.

The light is still on downstairs - they must still be in the living room.

I creep down nervously, my heart thudding in my ribs: I’ve never wondered around the house this late at night. I feel like I’m doing something illegal.

I sneak round the corner and peer into the room - it’s completely silent, so I’ll stay quiet not to rouse them -

My heart leaps into my throat at the sight.

Dan and Peej, sitting in each other’s laps, hands round each other’s necks, heads together, mouths -

Oh god, I want to vomit, my knees are trembling, this doesn’t make sense!

I can’t believe that they would do this - both of them! Dan would take my friend over me, and Peej would steal my admirer.

My legs give out and I crash to the floor, tears falling from my eyes without me noticing. At the sound, Dan instantly looks over Peej’s shoulder to me, and to make this worse, he smiles.

My heart sinks into my stomach. Oh. Now I’m the disposable one.

Dan jumps up after me and, in panic, I scamper as fast as I can up the stairs, my heart back in my mouth, my blood racing like fire through my veins. I rush into my room and slam the door shut, pressing my back against it. Suddenly it crashes against my back with a loud thud coming from the other side - Dan’s already here.

“No! No!” I cry - I scream. “Stop!”

He’s stronger than me. The door flies open and I’m thrown to the floor, squealing in panic. Dan pounces on me instantly, bearing that terrifying grin.

“I’m sorry!” I weep. “I’m sorry for not loving you before!”

Dan just laughs. He’s laughing  _at_ me. It’s not even pity. “Tough shit,” he growls. “You’re far too late.”

He holds that cloth against my face, and while I may scream and cry against him, I already know I’m fucked.

When I come to, I realise I’m in Peej’s room. I’ve been laid on the floor, my chest is bear, but my pyjama bottoms remain intact. Above my head are my arms, pulled tight and fastened by my wrists to the radiator. Before me lies the room, with the bed clear in front of me. And on the bed, there’s Dan, like he was yesterday, giggling to himself as he holds Peej against him.

At the sight, I feel despair bubbling up inside me, so I turn away and let it out in a helpless crying outburst.

Dan’s noises stop, and I hear him stepping off the bed. He kneels over me and grabs my jaw firmly in his hand, making me look up at him.

“You wimpy shit,” he laughs down at me. “Never thought about this, did you? About how I might move on.” His fingers dig harshly into my flesh and I yelp at the pain. “I was blinded by my feelings for you. They made you look perfect. But now I can see you for what you really are, and you’re far from anything special.” A whimper escapes me at those words: that’s what I prided myself on, Dan’s perception of me. I can’t fall back from here. I don’t want what he’s said to come crumbing down as lies.

He tilts my head back, which stretches the exposed flesh of my throat. I let out a helpless whine. I know what this means for me now, since Dan has moved on: he won’t keep me any longer. But he won’t throw me out, it’s too late for that. It’s too late for a lot of things. It’s too late for me.

“If only you could have loved me,” Dan tuts tauntingly. “Then you could have saved yourself.”

He brings out a knife and holds it against my throat. My body, in panic, tries to spasm and wriggle away, but Dan has it pinned down - I’m not going anywhere. His grip on my jaw tightens. The blade is pressing hard into my flesh. My breathing grows short and staccato, wondering which one will be my last. I don’t want to die. Not like this, at least. I don’t want to!

“Is there anything final,” Dan teases, “that you want to say to me?”

Over his shoulder, I can see Peej, rolling out of bed incredibly slowly, like his muscles are weak. On his face is a look of discomfort - I haven’t seen that from him in a while. He falls to the floor with a loud  _flop_ , and Dan turns his head sharply at the sound. We both watch on as Peej tries to crawl out the doorway, with hefty struggle, like he’s forgotten how to move.

“ _Shit_ ,” Dan mutters. He jumps off me, to my great relief, and runs after his escapee. His arms engulf Peej’s body and heaves him up off the floor - and Peej starts whimpering and whining, trying to shake himself free, but there’s really no point. Dan throws him onto the bed - his bed - and raises his arms together to the bed’s frame. There’s already a set of handcuffs prepared there for him, for some strange reason, and as Dan chains him there by his wrists, Peej starts whining and crying, making sounds that appear in the shape of the word  _no._

Then Dan does something that surprises me: he slaps Peej hard round the face, making him shut up straight away.

But I thought they were together now. This scene doesn’t make any sense.

_Oh._

I can’t believe I was that blind. I even forgot such an obvious detail: Peej isn’t even gay.

Dan spills a familiar liquid onto a familiar cloth and holds it against Peej’s face until he passes out, and stores the bottle back in the bedside drawer.

And then Dan returns to me, kneeling over me, and picks up his knife.

I have to speak - it’s the only chance I have.

“I don’t understand,” I squeal out. Dan glares at me. He doesn’t want me thinking about what I’ve just seen. He probably just wants to get this over with now. “You and Peej, it’s a lie.”

“Shut it,” he seethes.

I ignore him - what other choice do I have? “You’ve been drugging him, haven’t you?”

Dan growls and brings the knife back to my neck. “Watch it, Lester. Now you were going to say something to me, weren’t you?”

Terrified, and holding my breath, I keep going. “You’ve been faking this all along. What was the plan? To upset me? Or to make me want you back?” The knife is pressed into me harder, warning me to shut up. I persist. “Jealousy. That’s it, right?” My breath is shaking. “You wanted me to beg you to take me back. You were never going to kill me.”

Dan screams at that - I’ve pushed him to the limit - and he brings the knife up from my neck, raises it between us, and slams it into my belly. I choke on the pain and Dan holds me down to stop me wriggling.

“Just shut up!” he screams into my ear.

I can’t breathe. He’s stabbed me. I can’t believe he’s stabbed me. Oh god, am I really going to die?

“You were supposed to beg for me! Why couldn’t you do what I wanted, for once in your fucking life?!” The knife is twisted slightly and I convulse at the pain, crying out helplessly. “Why do you have to make this so difficult! I’ve gone to so much trouble for you! I even had to pretend to like Peej, and get him to play along - fuck, I even fucking kissed him! Why can’t you just appreciate me!”

I look over to Peej, lying motionless on the bed. At least he’s still alive. But how much have Dan been doing to him? He won’t be the same after this. It’s all because of me that this has happened to him.

I glance down over myself: a small trickle of blood is climbing out around the edges of the knife. If Dan takes that out, I could bleed out quickly. Maybe he really does want me dead.

“I'm… I’m sorry…” I mumble dryly. I feel like throwing up. “Please, Dan. I don’t want to die.”

He just glares at me. There’s not a hint of sympathy on his face.

Dan leans down and swipes his tongue around the knife, cleaning up the blood that has already spilled, and swallows it down harshly. “You won’t give me what I want,” he spits aggressively. “So why should I appease you?”

My bottom lip trembles in fear. “Dan, please - ”

He mashes his mouth against my own, and I struggle to kiss him back. I feel like I’m swimming now, inside my own head, swimming an ocean fogged by confusion and tainted with spills of broken memories and rained on by confusing current conditions. I don’t know what it means to be Dan’s hostage anymore, or what it means to like him, or want to like him. I don’t even understand who I really am anymore.

Dan seems to soften around me, shifting himself so his knees frame my hips and he’s leaning over me. His lips kiss me more calmly and caringly than before.

He draws away. “I’ve missed you,” he gasps. “You don’t know how painful it’s been to pretend I wasn’t holding myself back. But I thought it would be worth it, the wait. I thought the same kinds of feelings would stir in you for me.” Dan leans forwards, closer, expectantly. “Please don’t say I was wrong.”

I gaze down at the knife protruding from my flesh, with Dan’s hand still wound tightly round the handle.

I look back at him. “I’m sorry,” I cry. “Please, I can’t do this anymore.” Dan sighs in frustration. “I never asked for any of this! I never even liked you in the first place! Why are you so entitled to me? Don’t I have a say in what happens to me?”

“No!” Dan yells back. “No, you don’t! Because I need you, Phil! And you can’t see that. All you see is a pathetic, annoying, stupid, dreamy kid. You can’t even see why I like you. If you weren’t so fucking special, why would I still be here trying to win you over?”

I stare at the knife worriedly and brace myself for more pain. “Because you have nothing better to do,” I tell him seriously. “I’m all there is in your life. I’m not special, Dan. I just seem like it because there’s no one else.”

To my surprise, but relief, Dan doesn’t twist the blade further into me.

I take a deep breath in, deciding I can keep going. “You can’t win me over, Dan,” I dare to say. “Not like this. People fall in love in normal conditions, like going on dates to the cinema and coffee shops. In conditions like this, people just lose their minds. I’ve never been your friend, and I can never be your lover. I’m just your hostage. And that’s all I’ll ever be.”

Dan just stares at me blankly. I can’t tell if he’s really listening.

“So please, just let me go. Let us both go. We’ll never tell - ”

“I can’t trust that,” Dan says suddenly.

“Yes, you can,” I assure him. “Do you think either of us will want to confess to anyone what’s been done to us?” Dan doesn’t respond.

Before I can say anymore, Dan brings his hands to my shoulders and holds on to me tightly. “I can’t do that,” he whispers. “I can’t let you go. Why can’t you just love me?” There are tears in his eyes. It pains me to see him so upset.

“I’ve tried,” I promise him. “But after this, after the extent of pain that you’ve caused me, all I feel towards you is fear.”

His face change then. It’s almost contemptuous.

“Liar,” he giggles. “You’ll always crave me. Remember how desperate you were to spend the night with me again?”

_An overwhelming craving rushes through me and I wrap my arms tightly round Dan’s shoulders, trying to hold him close. He lets out a surprised yelp and tries to pull himself free, but I find myself unwilling to let him go._

_“Please stay,” I plead. “I miss you.”_

“No.” I shake away the memory. “I don’t want you.”

That smile has returned to Dan’s face. “You always do.”

He kisses me again, but I don’t dare kiss him back. I want to throw him off. I want to deny every accusation he makes, because all he’s really doing is convincing himself of untrue things just to permit himself further with me. It’s his old trick, just like he told me.

He pulls away, practically giggling, as his hands venture down to my trousers.

“I never did anything with Peej,” he informs me, “in case you thought that. I could barely bring myself to kiss him.” His fingers fumble with my pyjama bottoms and tug them down. My heart is beating alarming fast in my chest - so fast, I think it might burst out of my ribcage. “You already know how desperate I am for you on a regular basis. So imagine what such denial has done to me.” I dare a glance down - he’s already hard, the sick bastard. “I want to do it again,” he admits. It makes me horridly sick to the stomach.

“No,” I squeal. “I don’t want to do that again. Not now, not ever.”

He ignores me.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but my throat starts to close in on itself, and suddenly I can’t breathe at all. I gasp out painfully and twist my wrists in their restraint to get Dan’s attention. It feels like that first morning with Peej here again. I can’t escape and it has driven me insane.

Surprisingly, Dan stops what he’s doing and comes to my aid - his arms scoop me up into their hold and cuddle me close into his chest, leaving me enough air to breathe. As I continue to choke and gasp, he soothes me gently, begging me to calm down.

“I-I’m sorry,” I hear him whisper. I feel his tears hit my chest. “It still isn’t time.”

Before I can get my breath back fully, Dan is holding that cloth against my face - this time, I hardly have a second of consciousness before I’m dragged into the darkness with Peej again.

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, drinking, violence, somnophilia, emotional manipulation**

_The doorbell rings._

_Phil drags himself downstairs, not knowing who this could be. His parents usually call if they’re going to visit. He didn’t order any food. None of his friends live nearby - actually, scrap that, he doesn’t have any real friends anyway. And he hasn’t ordered anything in a while because he doesn’t have any real money._

_He swings the door open, muttering under his breath about it being past midnight, and when he sets on his eyes on the visitor on his doorstep, he can’t help but frown._

_“What the hell?” he mumbles tiredly. “Dan? Is that really you?”_

_The boy eagerly nods his head. It’s raining pretty hard outside, and he’s soaked to his skin, but Phil wonders if those really are tears on his cheeks._

_“What are you doing here? You live miles away!”_

_Shivering, Dan finally answers him. “I’m so sorry,” he squeaks out nervously. And maybe his shaking isn’t just the cold either. “I just had to see you.”_

_Phil just blinks. “Alright. Come in then… I guess.”_

_The eighteen-year-old complies happily, entering Phil’s house for the very first time._

_“Are you okay?” Phil asks him worriedly. Dan won’t stop staring at him. He doesn’t get a response. “Dan,” he tries again, making the boy flinch. “Are you feeling alright?” He nods his head. “Then care to explain what you’re doing up here, and so late?”_

_Dan, silent for a moment, finally drops his gaze away from Phil. “Could I… Can I have a drink please?”_

_Phil nods, deciding that letting Dan take his time might be best. “Sure. Is water okay?”_

_He clears his throat at that. “Umm, well, would… Could I have something stronger?”_

_Phil blinks worriedly. “What, like alcohol?” Timidly, Dan nods his head. “You’re barely eighteen! I can’t - ”_

_“I’m homeless,” Dan suddenly cries out. All the words fall guiltily away from Phil’s tongue. “Please. I just want to forget.”_

_Phil nods and fetches him some cider, and decidedly one for himself as well._

_“Here,” he calls softly. “We can sit in the living room.” Dan follows him in obediently and takes his seat without a word. “So…” he starts, wondering what to do in this situation. “Do you want to talk about it?”_

_After a moment of stillness, Dan finally shrugs his shoulders, taking a timid sip of his drink. “I don’t know how to articulate it all yet, honestly.” He lets out a forced laugh. “I’m still not sure what happened. One day, everything’s fine with my parents. Then, next morning, they wake me up and tell me to pack my bags. They know that I’m gay.” He looks over to Phil suddenly, to which Phil tries not to gulp. “So they disowned me. Gave me a few hours to pack my things and find somewhere to stay the night. And I tried, I really tried to find some place. But I’ve never slept anywhere but my own bed before tonight. So I found myself coming here.” Then, he sighs, and takes another sip, so Phil does the same, watching him intently. “What do you think I should do? I’m completely lost here.”_

_Unsurprisingly, Phil finds that he doesn’t have any of the words necessary to help him. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles sadly. “But all I can do is offer you a place to stay tonight.”_

_Dan’s eyes light up at that. “Really? You would do that for me?”_

_“Of course. Besides - you’re already here. Where else would you go when this house already has far too many empty bedrooms? I’m not going to kick you out when you’ve got nowhere to go.”_

_Phil didn’t know that Dan was lying. He didn’t know him to lie yet._

_He starts to stand himself up. “I’m sorry to do this,” he says sadly. “But I’m really tired. You can help yourself to any food, drink, bed and washing facilities that you need. I’m going to head to bed.” He’s on his feet. “But it’s really nice to finally see you in person.”_

_Dan jumps up too and runs over to where Phil is, putting a hand to his shoulder and guiding him back down to the sofa. “No, please, I don’t want to be alone,” the boy cries desperately, so Phil complies, sitting back down. Dan, now beside him, folds his legs on the sofa and leans in close. He takes another swig and Phil does the same. “Tell me how you met Peej.”_

_Phil tells him. By the time he’s done, his glass is empty, so Dan offers him his. Then Dan goes to get a glass of water, which Phil also ends up drinking, unaware that the actual contents is vodka. After not too long, he’s mind-warpingly drunk._

_“You know,” he says, his voice beginning to slur slightly. “There’s something I’ve always liked about you.”  
_  

_Dan giggles at that. “What?”_

_“Your smile,” Phil answers. “You always seem to be smiling when we call. I don’t know how you do it.”_

_Dan just sighs at those words, his cheeks beginning to flush slightly. “Well, I can’t help but be happy when I’m with you.”_

_Phil laughs, rocking forwards slightly. “You’re so sweet!” Then he’s reaching forwards and running the tip of his fingers along Dan’s lips, which makes the boy’s heart skip a beat. His body goes rigid. “Just look… They’re so plump and soft…”_

_Uncontrollably, Dan lurches forwards, clutching the collar of Phil’s shirt in his hands and pulling them into each other. His lips meet Phil’s desperately and his grip tightens, not letting Phil escape if he tried. Dan’s heart leaps excitedly in his chest. His fingers start to shake. He’s finally kissing Phil. Sure, he tastes of alcohol, but he’s real. For once in Dan’s life, the taste of Phil’s lips is true on his own. It feels like too much to him, but at the same time addictively not enough._

_Suddenly, Phil pushes him back, giggling to himself in that drunken fashion. “Oh no,” he laughs. “No no no. Dan, I don’t like you like that.” Dan’s heart sinks sickeningly to his stomach. “I don’t like you at all, really. I don’t know why I still pretend I do. But, if I were honest with you, I’d let you know how annoying you really are.”_

_Still, as Dan’s blood begins to boil inside his veins, Phil keeps giggling to himself, as if he doesn’t realise what he’s said._

_But, with little else he can do, the teen simply hangs his head in defeat. He’s desperate not to cry. All this time spent chasing Phil, and he goes and says that?_

_“It’s not fair…” he whines helplessly._

_“You know what’s not fair? That my glass is empty.” That’s all Phil says as he stands himself up and makes for the kitchen. That’s all he says after Dan kissed him. That’s it, after ridiculing Dan and making him feel like shit._

_Rage bubbles on the palms of his hands. When Phil has stood up, Dan’s hands push out, shoving Phil forcefully across the room. He stumbles, unable to regain himself, trips, and falls, smashing his head against the TV stand and collapsing to the floor._

_He doesn’t move._

_Dan squeals in worry and darts over to where Phil’s body lay, limp and lifeless. Blood is draining alarming fast from the dent in his head._

_“Fuck, don’t be dead, oh god, please don’t be dead,” Dan mutters, petrified, as he grabs the nearest pillow and shoves it under Phil’s head. Blood pours gently over it, quickly, but carefully. Dan squeals and runs to find something else, or a collection, something to stop the bleeding. He uses a towel next - unfortunately white in colour. Red quickly begins to taint it instead, consuming its light weight and softness and previous cleanliness._

_Dan’s breath comes out in panicked pants. “Fuck. Don’t bleed out.” He knows begging won’t help. He shakes his head, muttering “I’m a fucking idiot” under his breath._

Think, _he thinks._ What am I supposed to do?

_It comes to him gradually. He raises Phil’s head from the ground and sits him up against the sofa. Then he finds a small makeshift pillow and presses it against the wound, tying it securely against Phil’s head with some substitute for cloth. Then he sits back on his heels, admiring his work. The bleeding has slowed. Phil’s chest is still rising and falling gently._

_The boy sighs out in relief._  There. He’s okay. I saved him.  _A smile grows on his lips as he stares longingly at Phil._ I really can be good for him.

_His eyes fall down the body before him, taking everything in that isn’t exposed by the camera._

He needs me, _Dan tells himself._ Even if it’s just for a little while. I can’t leave him with a wound like that.

 _He reaches forwards, to the blood that has run down the side of Phil’s head, snuck past the bandage. His fingers press against it carefully and turn back to him, letting him inspecting it._ It’s pink. That’s strange. It’s not as red in small amounts.  _Hesitantly, Dan brings it to his lips, runs it over the sensitive flesh, over Phil’s ghosting previous touch, then lets his tongue lap at it. The taste makes him shiver._

Fuck, _he giggles to himself._ Phil’s blood. Who else has ever seen this? Or touched it? It’s warm. It’s almost sweet.

_He thinks he should move back now. But his body refuses._

_Dan reaches his hand forwards again and runs his fingers through Phil’s hair._ Soft, _he declares._ Like a blanket. _He tilts his head to the side, watching his fingers run down the side of Phil’s head. Something seems to tug in his heart, like a piece of string, tugging him closer to the body before him, and he won’t resist._ Close,  _he considers carefully._ I’ve never been this close. Maybe no one has.  _His body is leaning forwards unresistingly. He wants to feel the textures of the rest of Phil, of everything, from his skin to his lips, to… to everything._

_He stops. His eyes are fixed on the side of Phil’s head, the side covered in escaped blood. It’s starting to dry, the hair it has consumed beginning to clump and shrivel. Dan practically tuts at the sight. He has to wash it out._

_The boy struggles to lift Phil’s body from the floor. Sitting at a computer all day every day does not prepare oneself for such a task as this. So he resorts to dragging the body up every stair with as much strength and care as he can exert. By the time they reach the bathroom, Dan is already panting with exhaustion. He takes Phil into the shower and lays him gently down on his back, his head lulling to the side lifelessly._

_Before Dan turns the shower on, he decides that keeping Phil’s clothes from getting wet might be a good idea. So he brings his hands to the collar of Phil’s shirt and carefully undoes each button, his chest beginning to tighten as Phil’s skin is gradually exposed to him. Once undone, he pulls the shirt away from under Phil’s back and throws it out of the shower. Then, biting his lip, Dan slinks down Phil’s legs and reaches his fingers, trembling slightly, to the belt. He takes it away, leaving it with the shirt. Then he tugs the zip down and gently draws the jeans down Phil’s long legs. Once they’re off too, left with the others - oh, and the bandage too - Dan can finally shut the door and switch the shower on._

_The stream, at first, is cold, but he doesn’t pull away from it. It doesn’t take long for it to warm up. Dan watches the water run over Phil’s face and hair, turning a strawberry pink as it takes the remnants of blood along with it. It runs down past his knees, brushing down to his calves and feet, to reach the drain at the end. Dan sits there, settled over Phil’s hips, back straight, mesmerised by the sight. Phil. Before him. He’s never seen him in real life, never this close, until tonight._

_His fingers twitch in excitement and reach forwards, brushing gently through Phil’s hair and letting the stream of water reach every possible hair. More of the blood drains away. Dan’s fingers fall gently down the sides of Phil’s head, his eyes following intently. They sweep gracefully over Phil’s shoulders, running along his collarbone, carefully tracing his shape with the tips of his fingers. It’s as if, like this, Dan could mark this shape like a 3D image in his head, ready to bring back and use as he wishes. He never wants to forget it, this shape, this body. Seeing it, memorising it, touching it for the first time is special and exciting enough. But it isn’t the newness of this that excites him - it’s the idea of this being the start of many more moments to come: more glances, more touches, more of this man - this boy - and his personality and his body, and everything else - more to fill Dan’s future. It is that thought that intoxicates him._

_He’s leaning down over Phil’s limp body without knowing it. He can’t stop himself; it feels like a line drawing him in, like a tightening string, like instinct, blood-red, and Dan could never resist such an urge. He leans down, chest tightening, breathing sharpened, lips parted slightly and unhesitantly._ Just a little taste, _he tells himself._ Why waste such a perfect opportunity? It’s not like he’ll ever know.

 _Gently, carefully, as if this subtle touch could rouse him, Dan meets Phil’s lips with his own, a sweet pink blush rising on his cheeks. He’s shy with it. He draws away._ Warm,  _he notes, smiling._ And soft, like a pink marshmallow.  _Like a sweet laced with an intoxicating opium-esque drug, it makes Dan lean in again, addicted to the taste. His hand holds onto Phil’s jaw uncertainly, the pressure only light, just in case his head might roll away. His other hand presses firmly against the shower floor to keep his body steady. The kiss is still lined with alcohol - cider, and vodka, specifically - but Dan doesn’t mind. Any kiss is better than none, even an empty one._

 _A muffled noise escapes him and he sits back, trying to press his thighs together. He’s heating up, losing himself._ No,  _he worries,_ I can’t. Not here, not like this.  _But then again, why not? Phil won’t ever know. No one will ever know. It’s not illegal, it’s not a sin. There are no consequences._

_He runs his hand, carefully, down the centre of Phil’s chest, only the tips of his fingers feeling the brief ridges of his ribs and the subtle throb of his heart beat. His own heart seems to tighten sharply, and his breath becomes short. His other hand, his left, reaches down his own chest, running over his boxers. Dan leans his head back as he lets out a breathy moan. It’s so sinful, doing this, but it’s invigorating. He palms himself lightly, not wanting to overdo or waste this moment, because there’s no doubt that this will never happen again._

_As he sits over Phil’s body, staring down at him, Dan can imagine all the things he’s ever wanted to do with him, all the things he’s fantasised about a million times over, down to every little detail. He’s imagined a lot of things - some of them cute, some of them not so innocent. And why not? He can imagine anything he wants. It’s all just as likely as the last._

_He’s dreamed of being with Phil since he was fifteen, since his first videos. Dan has been there with him since his beginning. It was a far more exciting concept when he was that age, because Phil was so much older, and Dan supposedly more innocent. When you’re only fifteen, and mid-secondary school, the idea of a boyfriend of nineteen who’s in the first year of university is rebellious and, in that regard, too sexy to ignore._

_It had started off innocent - well, in comparison: Dan imagined Phil talking to him online, praising him and complimenting him, and then they would meet up in real life, Phil would hold his hand, and kiss him gently, and Dan couldn’t be happier. But then, when puberty hit, the desires altered. Then, Dan started to imagine hotter kisses, on the mouth, with tongues, and being in Phil’s bed - the one in his videos, the one everyone else could see, like Phil was toying with the idea of them not knowing something that he and Dan did: that was when the concept of possession became_ very  _appealing. Dan had firstly imagined Phil ruining him, showing him everything that he could about sex, and taking every possible innocence and first time that he could. Then it wasn’t long before Dan discovered the world of BDSM, and his fantasies turned from romantic and innocent to downright questionable. But it wasn’t the thought of dominating Phil that excited him, that didn’t come until later - Dan always placed himself as the sub, giving Phil control, letting him tie him up, hurt him, please him in every way he could. But it worked because Phil would be in love with him, not just lust. And he would tell Dan that in every scene, as well as how proud he was, how good Dan was, etc._

_It grew worse once the sexual elements kicked in, more out of control. Dan found himself dreaming of such scenarios without really thinking about it, and they became engrained in his mind. He found himself waking up with his hips rutting helplessly against his mattress, wishing it really could have been Phil instead. It twisted him up without him realising. And soon enough, Phil was all he could think about. He was desperate for him. And it drove him this far._

_Dan’s hands move without much conscious thought, like a mere mention of a desire and his body moves towards it, down to Phil’s underwear. He’s holding his breath without realising. Could he do this? That’s a silly question. He_ could  _physically, emotionally, and morally. In what sense can’t he? In reality, it all depends on Phil._

_If there’s anything that stayed with him through the warping of his desires, it was the part about innocence. Dan had decided since he was fifteen, when he first imagined it, that he wouldn’t let anyone but Phil take his virginity. It just had to be, if nothing else would. He already knew that he would never feel as strongly for anyone else but Phil in all his life - directing his efforts to anyone less would just be wrong._

_He pulls Phil’s underwear down and off his legs completely. He can’t stop smiling._

_Of course, he didn’t find out until he was eighteen that Phil wasn’t straight. So he had planned it out, how he would free himself from this obligation, if Phil would never consent to it. There was ideas such as dressing as a girl, or daring him into it, but none of them seemed plausible. He decided that a lack of awareness on Phil’s part would be necessary: drugging him, getting him drunk - that’s what he went with - or when he’s asleep. It was all planned out, for whenever Phil wanted to meet up with him. But even when it was revealed that he was gay, Dan couldn’t get the plan out of his head. And he knew, last night, that Phil was falling away from him, and that getting anywhere with him would never result from any consent. So he took action: getting him drunk was going to be the way to do it, especially since, from Phil’s stories, he gets a little_ friendly _when he drinks, and it probably wouldn’t be too traumatic - it’s not like Phil is a virgin too, anyway. But then this night happened, and as it turned out, Phil didn’t like him at all._

_Dan already knew, from the moment that he shut that shower door, exactly what was going to happen in here. He really can’t stop smiling._

_He takes Phil into his hand, holding his breath. Is this illegal? It doesn’t matter - Phil won’t ever know about this. As long as he can get hard, that’s all Dan needs. He brings his own hand to his own cock, unable to deny himself the satisfaction from his growing frustration. He’s really here, really doing this. He’s imagined it so many times over. Just this, and he can run, and never speak to Phil again. He can get over him. They can both live in peace._

_Dan thinks he hears Phil start to sigh, gently, though his mouth doesn’t move. It makes his heart tighten. He’s being good for Phil - that’s all he’s ever wanted. He hopes Phil can feel this - without the traumatic awareness of the situation, of course. Dan works them at the same time, sighing quietly himself, reminding himself that this is how Phil must be feeling too. His chest is tightening, it’s already too much. What he can’t hold out? No, he has to. It’s why he’s here. All this effort can’t be wasted._

_He glances up at Phil - holy fuck, is he moaning? No, he can’t be. Or could he? Dan looks away, back down between them, and Phil’s sounds only get clearer._

“Dan…” _he whines. Dan’s throat constricts._ “Please… I want this…” _He can’t breathe. It’s too much._ “I want you…”

_Dan knows that he’s imagining this, but he can’t care._

_He slips his hand behind him, using the water as lube and pressing them inside himself, imagining that Phil is doing this for him, toying with him, preparing him. Dan can’t help but moan aloud, wanting to show Phil how good he’s making him feel. He hears Phil praising him, encouraging him, spurring him on._

“I want this to be good for you,”  _Phil tells him._ “I want you to be good for me.”

_“I will, I will,” Dan gasps out, losing himself. He’s desperate to do this. Sex has never scared him - he loves the pain he causes himself sometimes, by accident, and he can never be scared with Phil._

“Go on,”  _Phil encourages._ “I’m ready for you.”

_Dan glances down - and smiles excitedly. Phil is certainly ready for him._

_He holds his breath as he lowers himself onto him, expelling it in satisfaction once he’s full. It’s an incredible feeling, so new, so unventured, so taboo. His hands hold onto Phil’s shoulders tightly as he rocks himself, back and forth, up and down, wanting to feel Phil everywhere inside him. This is the only time - he has to make it memorable._

“So good…” _Phil moans._ “I wish we could do this again.” _Dan nods eagerly, really wishing they could. **“**_ Maybe next time, I’ll be conscious, yeah?” _That sounds like too much of a dream._ “Don’t be so pessimistic - you could accomplish that. You already know that, deep down, I want you. Help me realise it, and embrace it. You want that, don’t you?” _Dan nods desperately, reeled in too far by the concept. Fuck - he’s getting close. He can fulfil one of his dreams of coming just by Phil inside him. He wants to bring Phil over, too, all by himself._ “Imagine what we could do together: everything single one of your dreams can come alive. You wouldn’t have to settle for this just once - you’ll have me forever. All you have to do to make me love you.”

_Dan stills as he comes, crying out blissfully. He lets the shower’s stream wash away his mess - including the sweat that now covers his body. It sounds like a brilliant idea. Dan and Phil, together. Surely it’s possible. Phil may not like him now, but it’s very easy to influence him. Especially if it’s his only choice._

_Dan smiles, dries and clothes them both, before setting off to plan out his dream._

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, hostage situation, dreams of violence**

I wake up with a pounding headache.

The murmured sounds of BBC late night news play on numbly in the distance.

I groan at the pain in my head and turn my head to the side, expecting to see Peej laying beside me. And I’m not wrong. He’s already awake, and he lays there smiling at me, looking very relieved.

“Morning,” he says, quietly, calmly. Then he shakes his head. “Sorry. It’s evening.” Then he laughs awkwardly. “I’m still a little shaken up.”

I frown at that, but then I remember: the whole fiasco with Dan returning, what happened to Peej, what happened to me, and I curl into myself unconsciously. I want to ask him what’s going on, but I don’t want to talk. I’d feel more comfortable keeping my mouth shut.

“We can watch TV,” Peej tells me. “And the PlayStation is in this room now. Plus we have the en suite.” He gestures to the bathroom door to my side. “It’s just us two now.”

I feel a great relief at that. So Dan left us again. That means we’re finally free.

But Peej isn’t smiling.

“Well, I say that…” he mutters. Then he doesn’t finish the sentence. “The door is kept locked, most of the time.” My heart drops to my stomach. “It’s mealtimes that he opens it.”

I try my wrists for restraint - and there they are, handcuffs, wrapped securely around my wrists. I can bet Dan scoured this room for any sharp objects that we could use to get them off again.

My breathing starts to become erratic. Oh god, he hasn’t gone. We’re still trapped. With him. It isn’t over.

“Shh,” Peej tries, shuffling himself over to me beneath the covers and hooking his arms around me, holding me close. “It’s alright. He doesn’t stay long. He doesn’t even enter the room, not really: he just leaves the plates on the floor and leaves again. I think he’s keeping his distance.” Even Peej has picked up the habit of dropping his name. “It’s okay. We’re okay. I promise.”

I take a few deep breaths, to steady myself. It’s warm in his hold.

Just then, an awkward twisting in my stomach begins, and I force Peej’s arms away from me and push myself away from him, rolling onto my side and curling up. My body is trembling. I can’t bear to have him here, now. Not after everything we’ve been through. Because he  _knows_  now, he knows everything: the truth about Dan, and how he treats me, and what I let him do. The exposure and judgement fills me with shame. What if Peej shames me for it? I led him on. I made Dan want me like this, and I’ve let him treat me like he has. What if he thinks that I enjoy it? All of it, even the pain. Why else would I fight him so weakly, so futily? I must be asking for it.

“Phil…” Peej whispers. Then he sighs, recognising the futility of it. “I don’t know how long we’re going to be here for. And I understand that you’re hurt, and probably traumatised. But  _please,_ don’t shut me out. I only want to help.”

He’s always said that. And what has he really done? Got himself caught in the same situation as me, allowed himself to be used like Dan’s plaything just to get a reaction out of me, and caused me and Dan more pain than ever before. Peej might want to help, but he has no idea how to do it.

He sighs again. “I don’t think badly of you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” I curl further into myself, tucking my bound hands into my chest under the covers. “None of this is your fault. I know you didn’t want any of it. Do you think I wanted him to… to…” He doesn’t continue that. “What you saw, that was everything. He never did anything else. It was only a ploy for you to see.” I hear the covers shift behind me. “I didn’t want to help him. I want you to know that. But I couldn't… couldn’t do anything. The drugs made me helpless.” He starts to sniffle - is he crying? “And although I can bet that what you’ve been going through is far worse, I just… I want you to know that I don’t blame you, for any of it. However you act with him, I understand. You’re just trying to survive.”

He jumps out of bed and runs to the bathroom. “I’m sorry, I just - I need a minute.”

The door shuts securely behind him. I’m left alone - truly alone - for the first time in a while. And I don’t like it. I want Peej back, already. I don’t want to shut him out like this. All he’s done is try to be there for me, and it’s only caused him pain. I can’t punish him for that.

The door squeaks open - but it’s not Peej. It’s the bedroom door. I spin my head round at the sound, terrified for what’s coming. And, poking his head round the corner, is Dan. This look surprises me. It isn’t malicious or knowing, like it usually is, with that terrifying grin. It’s sheepish. It’s sad. He places a couple of plates full of food on the floor by the door without even glancing at me. I look down where he’s looking, and spot a plate with an untouched sandwich on it, and beside that, an empty plate with breadcrumbs. I guess that was lunch.

Dan stands himself up again and looks up into the room - and his eyes fix immediately on me. He looks surprised. Then he glances away and quietly shuts the door.

Huh. Peej must have been right. Dan isn’t bothering us.

Then why keep us here?

To make sure we can’t get out and spread word. He was already scared that Peej would do it, no question. Maybe he doesn’t know what to do next. He must be getting frustrated by now. Or maybe not frustrated - tired.

The bathroom door opens and Peej returns, holding a tissue to his nose, still sniffling quietly. As he walks by me, I reach my hands out - the cuffs clinking - and grasp onto his pyjama shirt. He lets out a squeal of surprise but doesn’t pull away. I hold him close, but I don’t say anything - I can’t bring myself to, I can’t find my voice - so I just pull him close and bury my head into him. And Peej reciprocates straight away, kneeling down beside the bed and hugging me properly, and I almost -  _almost -_ manage a smile.

We don’t say much else as the evening goes on. Peej eats his dinner - seemingly, he doesn’t care whether it’s drugged or poisoned anymore, or maybe he’s just too hungry - but I pass it up. It’s just another show of compliance, and I don’t want to be like that anymore. It was almost acceptable when the outside world couldn’t see, but now there’s Peej, I can’t act so eager anymore.

I wonder why I’m still alive. Surely, with a wound like that, I could have died quite easily. It must have taken some great effort to bandage me up - he wouldn’t take me to a hospital, too many scars to explain. Why would Dan still want me to live?

Oh. He still wants me. He’s not letting me go.

Why does that fact still surprise me?

I pull my covers down - Peej is too busy playing GTA to worry about me - and tug my shirt up, wanting to see the scar. It’s covered heavily by rounds and rounds of bandaging fabric. There’s already a huge stain of red across it. I run my fingers across it gently - pain shoots through me at the touch and my mouth lets free a hiss. Peej catches on from that noise and jumps over to my side of the bed.

“No no,” he sings, putting his hand to my shoulder and encouraging me to lay down again. “Keep still. It’s still healing, you idiot.” I should laugh at that, but I can’t bring myself to. Peej sighs and pulls my covers back over my chest. “It didn’t pierce through anything important, if you were wondering. Dan made sure he wouldn’t really kill you. He even marked the spot with a little cross.”

Huh. So it wasn’t an impulsive move? He couldn’t have known I would figure anything out, though, surely. Was he going to do it anyway, to convince me that I was going to die? Fuck. What a psycho.

“I wanted to tell you,” Peej continues, quietly this time. “There was a moment that I came to again, after your little conflict. I wasn’t conscious for long, as you can imagine.” I nod subtly to show that I understand. “He realised because I screamed when I saw you. I thought you were dead.” He sniffles again - oh god, no more crying, please, not because of me. “But I realised that you couldn’t be, when I saw that Dan had bandaged your wound up. He had taken the knife, and was stabbing this pillow, over and over. It seemed really strange.”

Strangely, my biggest concern is which pillow was his sacrifice - some of them are really old and important to my family, so that’s quite sad.

“If he was that angry, why didn’t he take it out on either of us?” He’s practically whispering now. That makes me think he thinks there are cameras in here. “Why not me? Why are we still alive?”

I wonder for a moment. But I just shrug my shoulders at him, blank for an answer. Peej sighs and takes it, rolling off me and back over to his side of the bed. I take his advice and keep still, not wanting to open the wound. I wonder what would happen if I opened it, or if I tried to kill myself - would Dan go to the effort of saving me?

“Do you know,” Peej asks, again, almost in a whisper, “if he’s ever killed someone?”

I consider it. I shake my head slowly. I don’t think Dan would be composed enough in the moment to stop himself getting caught. Maybe I can take pride in that - if he kills me in the end, at least he’ll get caught.

“Has he… has he ever done this before? Like, have there been others… like you?”

I shake my head. No, it’s only ever been me for him. I’m his only victim.

Incorrect. Peej is his victim now, too. We just have different situations.

I know what to take from this: Peej wants to assess his situation, to figure out what Dan might want with him. Peej has always thought, from the minute he was in Dan’s captivity, that he was going to die. It must be painful not to know what his captor wants with him. There’s no predicting what Dan wants, especially not with Peej. It must be truly horrible for him.

But we’re in similar boats now, surrounded by the threat of death.

“He also said…” Peej continues, apparently. I look over to him and see him gulp. “He told me that he’d hurt you, to punish me, if I didn’t behave. It’s the only reason I did. I thought… I thought you’d hate me if I kept going, especially when you obviously just wanted me to appease him.” I gulp at that myself: it had been mean of me, and certainly selfish. But just like Peej, I didn’t want to see him get hurt either - the stakes were too high. “He said he only wanted to keep me calm. He never said anything about… about pretending to  _be_ something just to upset you. Maybe I should've… I could have figured that out, if I just…”

God, I hate hearing him like that - he sounds too much like me. I decide to roll myself over to him, without a word, wrap my arms around his head and cuddle ourselves together. Peej seems to gasp quietly to himself, but he doesn’t dare push me away: instead, he holds onto me tightly, glad to have me close. We don’t say anything else.

That’s where we fall asleep.

That’s how our days go, from now on, for a while. There isn’t much that can change, really. It’s our new routine: Dan opens the door, serving us breakfast; we - or Peej, mostly - eat our breakfast; we watch the morning news; we clean up for the day, brushing our teeth, washing our hair, and such; then we play some video games, depending on our mood, until lunch comes, then we eat that - I tend not to eat lunch, actually; then we keep playing, because there’s nothing better to do; dinner comes, and we eat that; then we shower, finishing up for the day, and tuck ourselves into bed. It’s usually in this time that we talk. Well, of sorts. After recent events, I’ve tended to keep my voice hidden away. So I don’t talk. But Peej does. It would work better, if I was facing him, because we’re good at communicating without words that way. But I refuse to do that - I don’t want him looking at me when he asks these question. I don’t want to know what he’s thinking, because god knows he can’t hide it on his face.

It’s Friday now. I think. That’s what it said on the news this morning.

“So…” Peej begins quietly, in only the light of the lamps on either side of our bed. “How long… how long has this been going on, with him?”

I just sigh and turn myself over onto my side. He’s always silly like this sometimes, asking me long-answer questions when he already knows I don’t want to talk. It’s just his way of encouraging me out, though, and I know that.

He swallows audibly, knowing it hasn’t worked. “Well, have you been together since you started talking?” I shake my head slowly. I always have to be careful when he asks questions, because I don’t know what he’s going to ask next, and I might not want to answer it. Once we reach that point, we usually just go to sleep without anything more said. Peej respects the limits. “Were you together at all when you were talking?” Again, I simply shake my head. He takes a moment to think. This reminds me of twenty questions. “So, you got together when he came to visit you, here?”

I consider that, and hesitantly nod my head.

“You hesitated…” Peej notes, catching on quickly. He’s already figuring me out now, finding the minute details. I don’t think he has anything better to be spending his efforts on. He’s quiet for a moment, letting himself think. “Phil, when he told me how you two met, did he lie?” What did he tell Peej again? That we spent the day in Manchester. So yes, I think, nodding my head, that was surely a lie. “So how did you meet?”

I just tilt my head in his distraction, unimpressed. Maybe that one wasn’t a clever trap, but rather a slip on his part. It must be hard to work out how to get the answers you want through such limited questions.

Peej sighs then, very clearly frustrated, and flops himself over on the bed. “Phil, please, this is too difficult! Why can’t you just talk to me?”

I bite my tongue and decide to turn myself over to him, bringing us face to face, and I present him with a showing look:  _because I don’t want to talk about it_ , is what I try to tell him.  _I don’t want you knowing. But I know, after everything you’ve been through, that you deserve to know._

Peej’s face takes on a sad expression then - I’m not sure whether that’s for his own emotions, or sympathy for my own, but he cuts our session short there. He raises his arms - the invitation for me to wriggle under, so I oblige, tucking my hands between our chests and curling my head into him. I’m glad that we can still do this, together. It feels horrid to know that I’m causing Peej so much unnecessary frustration, but I just wish that he didn’t have to know anything, didn’t have to be involved in this at all. It’s like, if I don’t tell him, then it never really happened.

 _Dear God,_ I think, even though I’ve never prayed to him before, not on my own.  _I don’t care about myself anymore. I’ll do anything, anything you want, anything that Dan wants, as long as you can promise to get him to safety. I’ll even go with you if that’s what it will take, even if it leads to nothing. I still don’t know how this really happened, but please, just let Peej go. It’s my only condition. Promise me that, and I’m yours._

Why do I talk like God is anything like Dan?

_“NO!” I try crying. But there’s no point - he’s gagged me this time._

_“Stop acting like the victim here!” he yells back at me. He yanks my foot out, on display for him, and holds it tightly by the ankle. I can’t wiggle around too much, he’s chained me to the head of the bed. “You know what you’ve done to hurt me. You knew this was coming, so don’t even pretend like you don’t deserve it.”_

_He pulls out a knife and holds it beneath my little toe. “The smaller ones will slip right off. But the bigger ones? They might take some sawing.”_

I jolt awake, sweating, crying, and trembling all at once. And Peej’s still holding me, whispering calmness into my ear, helping me forget that ever happened. He’s already used to this, this part of the routine.

I never mentioned how we always wake up, did I?

The next morning, we wake to something strange: not only are we not curled up into each other, like we always are, all night, but our wrists feel unusually light. Our wrist restraints are gone.

Peej looks at me excitedly, ecstatic. “This is good, right?” he cries with joy. “He’s finally trusting us! He might let us go, one day.”

But I can’t seem to match his enthusiasm. Because, whilst I know that this is a sign from Dan telling us both that we’re trusted, I also know that it doesn’t make us any less trapped - we still can’t leave this room, let alone this house, or Dan’s captivity. I will never forget that word. It also means something far more terrifying - that Dan isn’t afraid of sneaking in to see us whilst we’re asleep. I can’t help but shiver at the thought.

That night, it seems Peej’s mind is fixated on the concept of restraint.

“Did he do something similar with you? Removing restraints like this, to show that he trusts you?” I nod in confirmation. I really wish he wouldn’t keep wanting to talk about this. But then again, what better for him to hear about? I know he’s desperate to know as much as he can. And there’s little else for us to do. “Did he used to restrain you a lot, like this?” I consider that one, and shrug my shoulders. I find it strange that Peej talks about all that between me and Dan like it’s far in the past, because it’s still ongoing.

Then he goes quiet, and for some reason, I start to dread whatever he’s going to bring up next.

“What about the opposite?” Peej asks nervously. Oh god, this is definitely not going to be pleasant. “What happened when he didn’t trust you? Did he restrain you more?” Timidly, and with my heart beginning to pound, I nod my head. “And did he do anything else? Did he try to punish you?”

I can practically sense what Peej is thinking about, specifically. So I decide to show him. I lift the covers off of myself and take off my shirt and trousers, displaying myself for his eyes. I point to the top of my head, demonstrating a hitting motion with my hand, though I still can’t remember what he really hit me with; I point to my neck, though I think that both these marks and the scab on my head might be gone now; I then move down to my torso, where Peej can clearly see the stab wound, but I also point to the cut that has mostly healed closed on the opposite side, where Dan had thrown a knife into; then I move down to my thigh, where the indentation of  _UNFAITHFUL_ still clearly lies; then I reach my ankle, where, again, it’s starting to heal, where he had sawed at my flesh until I was scared he would hit bone; and then, lastly, because this is all I can remember, I show Peej my wrists, both slit previously, healed shut now, but the lines still prominent. I think Dan did both of these, but I can’t easily remember.

When I look to Peej, I see tears in his eyes.

“All this time…” he whimpers. “He was hurting you, and I didn't… I couldn’t…”

I bring my hands to his face silently and hold him gently, wanting him to calm down. It’s not his fault, but I’m sure that he’s blaming himself. But can you really be to blame for something, for not helping, when you didn’t know what was going on? Though he was suspicious. But I pushed him away. So it’s my fault.

This night, I hold Peej against my chest, to comfort him, because even though I was the one who hurt the most, right now, it’s the backlash that’s making him hurt far more than me.

_I’m not saying anything this time. I’m not gagged, but I also can’t talk or even make a sound._

_He sits on top of me, kneeling over me, knife in hand. He’s bring it down into my chest, over, and over, and over again. My hands are cuffed above me to the bedframe, but it doesn’t make a difference. He doesn’t even look upset. It’s like he doesn’t even see me._

_I think I’m already dead._

I jump awake, heart in my mouth, thankful that it’s still beating.

Something squeals in front of me and collapses in shock to the floor by my bed. But it isn’t Peej. In the darkness of the night, I can easily make out that figure.

I jump back up the bed, curling into myself, eyes wide and breathing panicked.

Dan just sits there, breathing just as heavily himself. It seems he wasn’t expecting me to wake up.

I glare at him, terrified.  _What the hell are you doing here?!_ I want to ask him. But I can’t find my voice. I think it’s disappeared inside me now.

“It’s alright,” Dan tells me quietly, in a whisper. I look over to my side - Peej is still there, curled up into his pillow, still happily asleep, and alive, most importantly. “I’m not here to do anything to you - to either of you.” He’s raised his hands in a mock surrender, like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be, like he answers to me. “Here:” he says, bringing out a small bottle from his back trouser pocket and holding it out for me to see. “I got you some pills, for your panic attacks. Well, they’re really for your heart. They suppress your palpitations.”

I stare at the bottle, confused.

Dan notices this, and sighs to himself - it’s like he’s upset with me. “If I wanted to drug you, or even poison you, don’t you think I would be more discrete?” I don’t answer him, but I suppose he might be right. “It’s unopened, anyway. Straight from the pharmacy.” He went all the way to a pharmacy just to get these for me? I stare at the label: it says the patient’s name is Daniel Howell. It’s a prescription. He lied to his doctor just to get these for me?

“I’ll put them in the bathroom for you,” he whispers, standing himself up. “It might be best if Peej doesn’t see. He doesn’t trust me, after all.” Then he sighs. “I really wish we’d done this better, him and me.” He looks back to me. “You don’t have to use these, if you don’t want to. You might not trust me, either. But every morning, it looks so painful for you.” He nods to Peej. “For both of you.”

He’s awfully talkative right now. Dan stares at me for a moment, then he’s leaning over me, reaching a hand to my face - I draw back, my heart racing, my breath growing fast in fear. He’s too close. He notices, and draws away with a sad but understanding sigh.

“Is there anything…” he starts, considering, “anything you want? A newspaper, magazine? Food or drink? I can get you McDonald’s or something later. I’ll even get you alcohol or cigarettes if you want.”

I never even considered getting any of those things. Luxury seems entirely out of the question, especially in a situation like this. But why is Dan offering this, all of a sudden? Why is he being so nice? Is he expecting me to take advantage of him, so he can punish me? Is this some kind of strange conditioning method? I’m still his hostage. I thought he was upset with me, after recent events. I don’t understand what’s going on.

Out of pure uncertainty, I shake my head. I don’t even know what I would want. Dan shows me a small smile, probably because I’m finally communicating with him, and makes for his leave.

“Just let me know if you ever think of anything, okay?” I nod to that, showing that I understand. It’s strange - I’ve never seen him so happy.

I fall back to sleep after that. In the morning, I don’t think I’ll tell Peej about it, but I don’t know why. I convince myself that I just don’t want to scare him.

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language/swearing, captivity, emotional instability, panic attacks and drugs, angst, smut (fellatio)**

That night, something else very strange happens. It’s stranger than any dream of torture at Dan’s hand, or any real-life appearance of Dan, known or unknown. I don’t know if it means anything. I don’t know if it terrifies me.

I dream of Dan.

_I sit in the coffee shop, my knees bouncing excitedly under the table, as I wait. I don’t know why I’m so excited until I see him, walking through the door. His eyes catch mine, and we both smile with happiness that is impossible to suppress._

_“Hey,” he says kindly, taking his seat opposite me. “Sorry I’m late - the train got delayed today.”_

_“It’s alright,” I reassure. I take his hands in mine and run my thumbs along them softly. “I could wait all day for you. It’s always worth it.” I make him blush with that cheesy line. “You’re always welcome to stay round mine, you know that. That way you don’t have to rush out every few days to see me.”_

_He sighs and his gaze drops down awkwardly into his lap. I still have his hands in mine, stroking them almost lovingly. “I know. It’s just… I know I’d love to see you all the time. But I can’t shake this feeling that you’d quickly get bored of me, or annoyed, or something - and you’d throw me out. I don’t want that to happen.”_

_I take my hand from his and reach it up to his face, lifting his chin so I can see it. There are almost tears welling in his eyes. It makes my heart break to see._

_“Don’t be like that,” I reassure him, keeping my voice soft, knowing that it calms him. “You don’t have to be so self-deprecating with me. You know that I love you,” his face lights up with that confession, even though he’s heard it thousands of times. “It would take far more than your silly morning habits to make me fall out of love.”_

_He shows me a grateful smile. Then I lean forwards, bringing him closer, and meet our lips. He falls into my hold once they touch, knowing he can trust me, knowing I’ll look after him._

I flinch awake from that dream, secured in Peej’s arms as usual. I don’t know if I should tell him about that one - I haven’t told him anything that happens in my other nightmares. Can I call this one a nightmare? I’m not sure if it’s just a sick joke, or maybe an unconscious desire, but I don’t want to find out. I don’t ever want to think like that.

“Are you okay?” he asks me nervously. “You’ve never been this jumpy before.” Then he shakes his head. “Ah, sorry, that was stupid. You’re still shaken up after the recent…  _stuff_ , with Dan, and everything.” He holds me tightly, stroking his hand over the top of my head. “Just ignore me.”

 _No,_  I whine.  _Never._

Peej lets out a laugh. “I know you won’t.”

I feel nervous that day, knowing that the pills are in the bathroom. So what if I take them or not - what happens if Peej finds out? What would he think of me if I’ve been keeping information like that from him, about our captor, and if I was letting him drug me, regardless of the actual contents of that bottle? It would mean that I’m putting my trust in Dan, which is still an ambiguous case. It would mean that I’m alienating Peej, and putting Dan before him. That certainly wouldn’t look good. Does that mean that I’d have to lie?

That night, during my turn to use the bathroom, I find the bottle in a small cupboard beside the toilet, hidden inside a plastic cup. I try to consider it, whether or not I should take it, but I don’t really feel like there’s much of a choice: my jumpy wake-up calls are hell for Peej, that I know, so I’m not doing this for myself - I’m doing it for him.

I fill the cup with water and gulp down one of the pills nervously, hoping it will work, then I hide the bottle back in its original place. If Peej finds it down here, I’ll tell him that it’s Dan’s, since his name is on the prescription anyway. Let’s just hope he doesn’t realise that it wasn’t here before - I don’t doubt that he scoped the entire room when this part of our captivity begun.

As I lay cuddled up with Peej that night, as usual, I start to feel a little strange. It’s not that I doubt what Dan has given me, nothing like that. Usually, he’s given me sedatives or something to  _make_ me sleep, not to prevent it. This time, I just can’t sleep. It’s irritating.

Once Peej has been asleep for a while, I shuffle myself out of bed and make my way to the bathroom, being quiet with the door. Then I just sit myself down in the shower, off, and wonder what I’m going to do with myself. Why on earth can’t I sleep?

After a few minutes, the bathroom door creaks open, and I’m surprised that Peej has woken up. But then I see that it isn’t Peej.

I push myself back against the wall of the shower, cursing myself for choosing such a vulnerable position.

“Hey,” Dan whispers to me, sitting down. “Can’t sleep, can you?” I don’t answer him. I want to know why he’s in here. He reaches to the little cupboard and takes the bottle out, skimming the label, like he’s looking for something. His eyes light up when he finds it. “Yeah. You didn’t read the bottle, did you?” He looks at me then, waiting for an answer. So I slowly shake my head. He lets out a chuckle. “You’re not supposed to take them at night, Phil. They disrupt your sleep. That’s why you’re struggling.”

He passes the bottle to me, so that I can read it for myself, and I do - seeing that point listed in the most common side effects. Whoops.

“I’m impressed though,” Dan says with a smile. “You’ve actually taken it. You trusted me.” He has the smile of a little child, not with any malicious undertones. He’s genuinely happy because of my actions.

I just stare at him. I hardly recognise the boy before him. Now my fear towards him just feels silly. He’s acting like a child, not like my captor. Like he’s reliant on me, not like he’s controlling my situation.

I want to ask him why he isn’t sleeping right now, and when he actually sleeps. I want to ask why he spends every day serving us, when we’re just an inconvenience to him. I want to ask what on earth he’s planning. I want to ask what’s wrong with him, but that’s just a little unfair.

Maybe this is the edge, for him. Maybe there is no ulterior motive, no well-conceived plan. Maybe he doesn’t know what to do.

Dan pushes himself up onto his feet and makes his way to the door. Then he hesitates, and turns back to me.

“I would offer my help, to help you sleep tonight,” he mumbles timidly. “But there’s nothing I can think of. I could get you some milk, perhaps. But I’m not sure what that would do compared to those pills.”

I surprise myself by wanting the milk. I don’t care whether or not it works, I just want it. I think, from the look I’m giving him, that Dan picks that up. He also looks surprised.

“Do you… Do you want to come with me? It’ll only take a minute.”

I surprise myself further by agreeing to that, as well.

I follow him out of the bathroom, passed Peej on the bed, still fast asleep, out into the corridor that I haven’t seen for probably a week now, down the stairs that already feel unfamiliar, and into the kitchen. Everything looks so clean in here. Maybe that’s what Dan is spending his time doing - maybe he’s just as bored as we are, and he’s trying, like us, to avoid inertia.

He takes out a glass, takes out the milk, and pours me some, like he’s trying to reassure me that he hasn’t tampered with anything. Then he goes to pass it to me, but he pauses, thinking.

“Do you want to sit down for a bit?” Dan asks, very shyly. “With me? I know you’re not talking.”

I take my seat - not my original one, the one opposite him. It’s a fair enough distance that he can’t touch me too easily. He takes his own and passes me the glass, and I drink from it happily. I don’t know why I was so excited for it - it’s just a glass of milk. But I haven’t drank any for a while now. Whilst we’re in that room, Dan will only bring us water for lunch and dinner, and tea and orange juice for breakfast. When I say it like that, this place sounds like a pleasant bed and breakfast.

Dan sits there quietly, opposite, watching me. It’s like he knows he shouldn’t be, but he can’t help it. When I look at him, he quickly glances away, blushing.

“Umm,” he tries to start, not looking at me. “I guess you’re wondering what’s going on now.” I slowly nod my head. That’s a bit obvious. “Well, if I’m honest, I don’t even know myself.”

Oh, so we’ve actually hit a roadblock, then? Honestly, I didn’t quite believe it myself. Where do we go from here?

Dan sighs, still not looking at me. I take another sip of my drink. “I think I might have lost my way…” he whines. “At least recently. All I’ve done is treat you like some sort of prisoner, or criminal. But when I think about it, you’ve never done anything wrong - you just haven’t done what I’ve wanted you to, and they’re not the same.” I swallow a mouthful of milk. How has he come to that conclusion? It doesn’t sound like him. “It feels like I’ve been pushing too hard for something that won’t work out that way. I could never  _make_ you love me - that could only ever come naturally. And I’ve destroyed any chance I had for that to happen, by making you fear me.”

He looks at me then, at last. I think he’s about to cry.

“I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t keep going like this, keeping you both here, but I can’t bring myself to let you go. I need you.” His hands reach out towards me, but they can’t quite reach, so they start to withdraw sadly. “I’m losing my mind without you.”

Maybe Dan isn’t sleeping. That would explain a lot.

His fingers start to tremble, overwhelmed by their denial, and Dan stares at them, unsurely. “Could I…” he mutters. “Can I… Would you let me hold your hand? Just for a little bit.” He looks so desperate.

I’m not that much of a monster.

I put my drink down and hold out my hands for him, across the rest of the table, and take his hands into my own. His fingers instantly squeeze around mine like I’m his lifeline, clinging to the moment. It’s like he’s afraid to move, or to let me go, in case I really do disappear from him.

When I look at him now, I can see the real Dan. The child who fell in love with a stranger on the internet, and didn’t know what to do. He fell too far and tried too hard, and now we’re both stuck, knowing where we want to go, not knowing how to get there - like we’re trapped on an island together and the bridges to anywhere else have been destroyed. It’s like we’re frozen in this moment, me and him together, and there’s nowhere near in sight for us. Our situation has reached stationary.

Unknowingly, I start to stroke my thumbs gently over his hands, wanting to soothe him. I know that, realistically, I have always been the issue here. All I had to do was love him, and life would have been fine for both of us. Our relationship could have been normal - and who knows, eventually Dan may have fallen out of love and moved on, and our story would have ended. But I couldn’t do it. So we’re stuck here, at the top of the rollercoaster, stranded, deadlocked.

“We should go,” he admits sadly, obviously reluctantly, wiping his eyes once he’s pried his hands away from mine. I finish my drink without a word - what would I say to him anyway? - and let Dan lead me upstairs. “Hopefully you can get some sleep now,” he wishes me. And as the door closes between us, my body does something that shocks us both:

I smile.

The milk doesn’t help. I still can’t sleep. I just curl myself up in Peej’s embrace and wish him a good night. And, with luck, he’ll have a pleasant morning too.

I decide to put the TV on, to pass the time. The first thing I notice are the usual BBC idents, that play between programs. An animation of snowflakes fall down behind the BBC logo: it’s the first of December. Why does that seem strange?

Is Dan going to keep us for that long? Surely he can’t. We all have families, and people who’ll need to see us for Christmas. I believe I can place my bets confidently that we’ll be out of here within the month.

No, revise that. It won’t be that simple. If anything, Peej has the greatest chance of getting out of here. But Dan knows my parents don’t care enough about me - they haven’t spent a Christmas with me since I went to university. And it doesn’t appear that Dan’s parents care enough about him to call him home, either. So it seems very likely that I’ll be spending these holidays with him.

I slump down into the bed, watching the Christmas adverts playing on. It’s going to be horrible, isn’t it? Me and Dan, alone, for the happiest of holidays. I used to love it, as a kid, when my parents were truly happy together. I had a perfect family, and always a perfect family Christmas. But now all that disappears for Dan.

I seem to fall asleep after that, because I wake up curled up inside Peej’s arms, with him smiling at me in his newfound happiness. He has to find something to be happy about. Hopefully it isn’t that he can trust me, because apparently he can’t. I still can’t seem to tell him about Dan. I fear he will judge me, and why risk an argument when we’re stuck with each other?

I wake quite peacefully that morning, to my relief. Peej is already awake, watching the news. I twist my body lethargically and groan - that definitely wasn’t enough sleep last night.

“You okay?” Peej asks me, sighing in relief now that I’m awake. I nod my head to him. “Oh thank god. I was worried you’d fallen ill or something. Did you have trouble sleeping?” I nod again, quite simply, to confirm his suspicions. He shows me a smile. This is probably the most interaction we’ve really had over the past week - or however long it’s been already.

I go to the bathroom after that and take my pill then, rather than at night - and I hope that this will fix my insomnia.

That night, whilst I get to sleep just fine, something worse happens: I have another nightmare.

_I try to keep quiet, despite the gag in my mouth. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. He’s tied me to the kitchen chair - arms around the back, ankles attached to each of the front chair legs. I know that any wriggling won’t do me any good, so I decide to keep as still as possible._

_“This isn’t to hurt you, Phil,” he tells me in an excited giggle. He’s standing behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. I just look straight ahead, refusing to look anywhere else. “This isn’t a punishment - it’s a pleasure.”_

_He slips his hands down my torso, making me hold my breath anxiously. His fingers reach my underwear and start to play teasingly along the hem, making my heart race._

_“You’re going to enjoy this,” he tells me, kissing gently at my neck. Then he chuckles. “You already are.” My cheeks flush, and I refuse now more than ever to look down. “Don’t even try to deny it - we both know that you want it.”_

_His hand runs over the front of my boxers, and shamefully I buck my hips up, desperate for the contact, moaning helplessly into my gag. He’s right: I’m already hard, and I really do want this._

I flinch awake from that dream, already sweating. But it’s not the nightmare that’s the worst part - it’s the real life effects. My hips are swaying unconsciously, truthfully desperate for friction, wanting to grind into the mattress. But I have to suppress the urge, not only because growing aroused from such a dream is a sickening thought, but Peej is laying right next to me, fast asleep.

With red-hot cheeks, I rush myself into the bathroom, quickly strip off my clothes, jump into the shower and switch it on. I sigh in relief and dial the temperature down to cold, hoping that this will make my shame go down. I haven’t had something so adolescent happen to me since… well, since I was about seventeen. But then again, I’m not exactly emotionally or sexually healthy right now, am I? I suppose I can’t blame myself. But now I just have to forget. I need to.

I don’t hear the bathroom door open, or Peej get out of bed, but whilst the first one certainly happens, the second doesn’t. The shower door slides open and I spin round at the sound -  _fuck, it’s Dan!_ I squeal in fright, practically jumping out of my skin, and my body crashes in a heap to the shower floor with great  _crash_. Dan flinches at the sound, obviously recognising my pain. But I can’t bring myself to care -  _why the fuck is he in here?!_  I cover myself up with my leg, hiding my shame from him.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, holding his hands up again to show that he’s keeping back. “Shit. That looked painful.”  _Oh, really?!_ Dan kneels down so that he’s level with me and holds timidly onto the side of the shower door, barely poking his head round. “Sorry to freak you out like that. "I just… I wanted… I wondered…” He sighs and shakes his head. “I wondered if, maybe, you wanted some help.”

I cock my head at him. What kind of idea is that?

“You know me, Phil. I still have feelings like that for you.” He says that with an undertone of shame, which surprises me. “And I thought: maybe you don’t have to waste this.” Dan gives me this look that I believe you’d see on a hungry puppy, or a pet that wants something it knows it can’t or shouldn’t have. “I’ve hurt you a lot, in situations like this. So I want to make it up to you.” He leans forwards, hesitates, then moves himself back. “If you don’t want me to, then I’ll back away, and that way I can make up for all the times that I didn’t.” I think a shiver runs through his body at that thought - he’s definitely full of surprises recently. “Or… or I could help you out. You know I want to please you.”

There’s a deep blush growing on his cheeks. Dan reminds me of a child, again, in this moment.

This whole scenario makes me confused. I know, in my head, that I fear him. But rationally, right now, that sounds ridiculous. Dan isn’t a threat to me now - if anything, he’s the complete opposite.

Maybe it’s because my thoughts are warping, or maybe it’s because my erection hasn’t quite gone yet, but I find myself really wanting to kiss him.

I sit myself up off the wall and reach my hand forwards, towards him, invitingly, and timidly, Dan takes off his shirt and trousers - not wanting to get them wet - and crawls up to my hand. He practically nuzzles my palm with his cheek, letting me lead him, so I bring him closer, until our faces are almost touching. His lips are parted slightly, expectantly, and his eyes are wide with uncertainty. Strangely, I find that he’s never looked this appealing before.

I bring his lips onto mine, kissing him gently, and he falls submissively into my touch. I must be mad, I must have lost my mind, because this isn’t terrifying - it’s nice.

Dan pulls away quickly, but he doesn’t move very far. I shift my hand down to his neck and wrap my fingers carefully round the back. “No strings,” he says, incredibly quietly. “No conditions. This has nothing to do with me wanting to be with you. This is just about you. We can forget about it afterwards if you’d like.”

I consider that, very deeply. Then I nod my head, to which he shows understanding. Maybe it’s really Dan who has lost his mind.

I kiss him again, holding his head firmly in place. I let myself lean back against the shower wall again, with small splashes of water hitting our heads, and Dan falls with me, falling between my legs. He tries to pull away briefly, for air, but I pull him back - if this moment is for me, then I’m taking control. He doesn’t struggle after that. Then, Dan parts his lips, as a little suggestion, and I take to it, playing my tongue with his.

My bottom half starts to heat up again, needily, desperately, and I almost let myself rock my hips up against Dan’s body. But I don’t have to do that - Dan has already brought his hand between us, and as he wraps his fingers around me, I can’t help but let escape a satisfied sigh. My hips buck up then, begging for the touch.

Dan pulls away again, with the glint of a shy idea in his eyes. “I want… Can I… Can I try…?” He can’t quite get it out. But I nod to him anyway, already short for breath, wanting anything at this point. So, with my permission, Dan shifts himself down between my legs until his face is positioned right before my cock. At the sight, and the implication, I find myself gulping. The last time we did this, I felt exactly the same as I do right now - excited, despite the situation. Is that wrong?

He parts his lips and sinks down the length of me, and at the new feeling I bring my hand to my mouth and bite down to suppress the noises my body is desperate to let out - I can’t forget that Peej is right behind that door, and having him find out what’s going on in here wouldn’t be good. I wonder that, in my rush, I didn’t lock the door behind me, but that’s exactly how Dan got in, and with his intentions, it’s very likely that he locked the door behind us instead. I sigh out in relief at that thought.

I can’t help but watch on intently as Dan bobs his head on top of me, obviously wanting to please me.  _Fuck,_ I think,  _he’s gotten good at this._ He works his tongue practically expertly round me, making me bite down harder on my fingers. I won’t be able to last long, not much longer. I bring my hand out of my mouth and thread it instead through Dan’s hair, giving myself a sense of control over his actions. It’s mesmerising, seeing him work like that. I wonder why I was so scared of this before.

I let out a stifled whine as I come, legs trembling, trying not to push too far and hurt Dan’s head. My fingers tighten in his hair and I try not to hold him down. Heat from my orgasm floods through me, and for a moment, I’m full of bliss. Then I start to come down, feeling the chill of the shower’s cold water and the air, rather than Dan’s warm mouth, on my skin. Shame doesn’t fill me afterwards, this time. Thank god.

Dan sits back away from me, and timidly, subtly, swallows his mouthful. I’m pretty sure that in itself could arouse me, but obviously not now.

“Was that… was I good for you?” he asks nervously. I confidently nod my head, wanting to prove him right, wanting to thank him. His smile beams like the sun from his face. “Thank you. I’ll just… I’ll go now. I’ll let you sleep.”

He stands himself up, dries himself down, and puts on his clothes again. Then he stops, freezing for a moment of thought, and he turns back to me.

“If you ever… if you find yourself struggling to sleep, I’m struggling too. Maybe, if you wanted, we could try it together.” Then he looks away from me sheepishly. “Because I really miss cuddling up with you.” Then he looks back at me. “I’ll leave the door open, from now on, after dinner. So if you need to stretch your legs, get a snack or a drink, or, you know, come and see me, then you can. I trust you.” He shows me a shy smile. “I always have.”

Then he disappears, leaving me to fix myself up and return to bed with Peej as if nothing had happened.

We’ve gone too far now. We’ve reached a point that I feared: where I can’t tell Peej about any of it. I’m going to have to live a double-life, within the confides of my own house.

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language/swearing, captivity, emotional instability, drugs, and some fluff O_O**

Morning comes, and I don’t tell Peej what’s been going on. What would he say? What good could come of it? I’ve kept it hidden this long - even honesty and trust aren’t things I can count on for Peej thinking, because they would be lies.

I do tell him about December, though, now that it’s started. He seems to deflate at that news - his birthday is in ten days. I’d almost forgotten about that. He can’t still be missing by that time. He has family, and friends, and subscribers. This problem that Dan has reached is going to cause chaos soon, outside of this house.

I suggest to him that we watch some Christmas films, as that would be a nice change from our mundane routine, but he passes it up.

“I just…” Peej sighs. “I don’t want to think about how the world is just going on without us. I don’t want to waste my birthday and Christmas here, with someone who doesn’t even like me and probably considers making his life easier by erasing me completely.”

I want to tell him not to talk like that, but I still can’t find my voice.

Needless to say, I get what he’s saying. It must be well over a month now that I’ve been trapped like this with Dan. The amount of time that has already been lost is… well, I don’t want to think about it.

I wish I could get him out of here.

That night, I find myself unable to sleep. Maybe it’s the pills, maybe it’s guilt, or maybe it’s restlessness - whatever it is, I can’t stand it. So I find myself climbing quietly out of bed and over to the bedroom door, my heart in my throat. If Peej wakes up whilst I’m gone, what will he think? What if he finds us together? What will he assume then?

Why is Peej suddenly my greatest fear?

The door opens quietly and easily, and I sigh out in relief. Dan didn’t lie to me. I step out, legs trembling, into the dark hallway, and close the door behind me.

“Hey.”

I jump, cursing myself for such silliness. It’s just Dan, standing outside my room. He’s smiling sweetly, obviously glad that I’ve taken up his offer.

He walks over to me, reaches behind me, and locks Peej’s bedroom door shut. “That’s not to say you can’t go back tonight,” he reassures me in a quiet whisper. “But I don’t want to risk Peej getting out. Do you understand?”

I nod my head, understanding.

He smiles helplessly. “So, what are you out for? Food, drink?” I shake my head. “Sleep troubles?” I nod my head. “Do you… is it me you’re looking for?” Again, I nod my head. That smile on his face can’t get any wider. But it’s cute, not bad in any way. He’s got this childlike excitement about it now.

He leads me to his bedroom - my old bedroom, what a surprise - and once we’re inside, he doesn’t lock the door behind us. He closes it, but leaves it unlocked. I feel a great weight of restriction lift off of me.

We don’t spend much time being awkward: we both curl up under the covers, wrapping our arms round each other. I find myself having missed his touch, grateful that he’s back. Unlike Peej’s bed, mine is only a single, so there isn’t far for us to go if we’re not holding on to each other. Dan’s arms hold me tightly, but not constrictingly - he knows the limits.

“I gave Peej something in his dinner,” he tells me. “To help him sleep. That way, we can get you back without him knowing you were gone.” Then he pulls back from me slightly, trying to see my face in the darkness of the night. “I can do it every night. If you want to keep coming here?”

I consider that for a while. Then I think, what reason is there for me to say no? So I nod my head, and even in this darkness, I can see the way it makes Dan smile.

He nuzzles his head into my neck, sighing once he’s found a comfortable spot, and I hold him close. I can feel the way his chest rises and falls against my skin. I wonder how quickly he’ll fall asleep. I make myself just as comfortable, and, to my relief, I fall asleep effortlessly. Maybe Dan was right: if we try together, we’ll be okay.

Dan shakes me awake, whispering that we need to get me back with Peej, so I reluctantly get myself up out of my usual comfy bed and shuffle to Peej’s room again. I almost don’t want to go inside, now that I’m out.

“It’s alright,” Dan tells me, squeezing my hand before letting go to unlock the door. “This is only temporary now. The only reason you have to stay here is because… well…” He gestures sadly to the room behind this door, and I nod in understanding. If Peej could be trusted like I can, we’d be allowed free. And I can’t go without him, because he’s only ever been well-behaved for my benefit. I suppress a sigh within myself - if only I could help, make him trustworthy. But why would he ever trust Dan?

Dan lets me go back inside without another word, or a hug, or a kiss. It feels strange of him - empty, almost. But I don’t complain. Once I hear the door lock shut behind me, I climb back into bed by Peej’s side as though I was never gone.

Peej doesn’t talk to me much that day. It’s like he’s suddenly been deflated, like he’s given up. But why? What would have caused this? He can’t possibly know something about me and Dan, right?

After lunch, I shuffle over to him on the bed, and nudge his shoulder with my nose - I figure that it might tempt him, if I act silly. Usually he laughs. This time, he just sighs.

“What?” he asks quietly, tiredly. I pout at him:  _What’s wrong?_

Peej looks away from me. “You should know what’s wrong.” Fuck, should I? “You’ve shut me out. You made me think that you wouldn’t do that. Why did I believe you? You’ve already done it before.” I gulp, guilt building in my stomach. “I understood it that time, though: you had him. But what is it this time? Sure, you’re upset. But you have me. I need you, Phil - to keep me grounded. You’re the whole reason why I’m here and I need that to maintain so I don’t feel like I’m wasted space.”

He turns to look at me again. And, for the first time probably since I’ve seen him, his expression is purely and justifiably selfish. “I know you don’t being alone. So what’s going on with you?”

I don’t answer him. That’s the joy of being selectively mute: you don’t just blurt out unmeant and foolish things. I now have time to consider it.

At my lack of response, Peej just sighs - irritated this time - and turns himself onto his side, away from me. “Just as I thought,” he grumbles. It makes my heart sink. I don’t want him to be upset with me.

I roll myself onto my back, realising that this conversation is over. A cold silence builds between us, like a wall down the middle of the bed.

“Actually,” he cries suddenly, rolling back over. “There’s something I want you to tell me. Just this, and I’ll quit bothering you about it.” Oh - is that what he thinks has upset me? All his interrogation? “You saved my life, the first day we were here. He was going to kill me. Instead, you made a deal with him, to save my life. I won’t forget that.” My heart warms at his words, but I’m already dreading what’s coming. “I remember that deal. What you offered him.” Yep - I gulp, worried, turning myself onto my side away from his onlooking eyes. “Can you tell me, just this one thing: did you go through with it?”

For a moment, I clench my fingers round the duvet beneath us. I never wanted to lie to Peej, but this was the one thing that I promised I would never tell anyone.

Quickly, I deny it, shaking my head.

Peej only sighs. Why doesn’t he sound pleased with my answer? Does he know it’s a lie?

“I… I don’t believe you.”

My heart pounds quickly, my blood beginning to boil: it isn’t embarrassment that I’m feeling, but, strangely, rage. I spin round to him, glaring angrily.  _Why’s that?_ I shoot at him.

“I have my reasons,” he mutters bluntly, rolling onto his side.

I roll away from him, just the same. Now he’s certainly pissed me off.

That night, I go and see Dan without hesitation, once I know that Peej is certainly asleep. I need to see him - I need to spend time with someone who doesn’t hate me right now. Once he sees me, I see Dan’s face grow into a smile - his usual, now, when he sees me. Without a word, we curl up in his - or my - bed, easily falling asleep. I’d forgotten how comfortable it used to be, sleeping with him like this.

It turns out that I long for the nights, now, since our little  _thing_ has begun. I don’t know what to call it. Does it need a name? Is it that simple? Is it even that important? Yes, definitely. If Peej were to find out, it would cause hell. He’d probably call me crazy. He’d think I was actually falling in love with Dan.

It’s the fourth, Dan tells me, of December. He also tells me that he’s been keeping our YouTube channels active, with some of our stored videos. I don’t ask which, and he doesn’t tell me. I suspect, since he isn’t mad with me anymore, that he wouldn’t have posted one that makes me look bad.

We don’t talk much, still, when we spent the night together. Sometimes, like this night, he’ll just let me know something quickly that he thinks I should know, then we just sleep as normal.

 _As normal,_ I repeat, wanting to laugh. So this is normal now?

This night, as I hold him within my arms, I find one of my hands reaching up into his hair, and stroking it gently between my fingers. A sense of longing pains my chest. Dan is cute, when I think about it. He opens his eyes at my touch, with a smile playing at his lips. For a moment, we don’t say anything: we just stare at each other. Why does this feel so familiar, so natural? Why aren’t I afraid of him anymore?

I realise that I really enjoy being in his company. I enjoy spending time with him. I like when he looks at me, and smiles at me, and gives me all his attention. I like that he cares so much about me. Why are these concepts so backwards, yet, not at all? They’re normal, for once.

I find myself kissing him without realising, without planning on it. And Dan doesn’t object. I don’t want to pull away. The touch is heart-warming, and I cherish it, holding him close. It makes me feel calm.

I pull away after a while. I can practically feel the heat emitting from Dan’s cheeks. He doesn’t say anything to me, not about that, not about anything. I like that: there’s no obligation, no requirements to reach, no constant questioning about my feelings or my actions. It makes me feel at peace.

After that, Dan curls into my chest again and we fall sound asleep.

I rush back to Peej in the morning, as though, once again, nothing had happened.

He’s still not talking to me. I can’t tell if he’s angry or upset - I could probably tell, if I looked at him, but I can’t bring myself to. I feel like he knows - whatever he knows, I don’t know, but I feel like there’s something.

When I go to the bathroom that morning, to take my pill, I forget to lock the door. I don’t think much of it - we both respect our privacy -

Oh, I think as I open the cupboard door: the pot has gone.

My heart beat quickens anxiously. So that’s what Peej knows.

As I step out of bathroom, head down, hoping he won’t say anything, I find Peej standing right in front of the door, blocking my path, holding, in his stupid hand, that pill pot.

“You prick,” he seethes, scowling. “You didn’t tell me about these? What were you thinking!”

I stare at him blankly. I can’t lie and pretend that they’re Dan’s, because he’s obviously convinced that I’m taking them.

“Did you even consider for a minute that these might not be what you thought? You just took these from him - you trusted him?!”

He throws them to the floor, the bottle smashing on impact. It makes me flinch. Peej has never gotten this angry with me. Might he hit me?

“Alright. It’s time to talk,” he growls, fisting the collar of my shirt aggressively. I hold my breath in fear. “Where did you get these from? When did he give them to you? Because they weren’t here from day one, and he’s never brought them up.”

I just gulp. I have nothing to say to him.

“Will you answer me, for god’s sake!” He shakes me - his rage is overwhelming him. Or maybe he’s not that angry, but rather frustrated.

My heart is racing. I don’t know what to do. I grasp his arm tightly with both hands and try to pull him away.

Then Peej lets go, with a loud sigh, and he walks round the side of his bed and sits down against it, on the floor, throwing his head into his hands.

“I can’t trust you anymore,” he whines. I think he’s going to cry. “Out of everything that Dan has done to us - that you’ve done to me before - nothing is as bad as how you’re treating me now.” I watch him anxiously as he brings his hands through his hair. I don’t think he’s washed in a few days, now that I think about it. “And I have no idea what’s gotten into you.” Then he laughs. “Or maybe it’s me - maybe I’ve gone mad inside this room for, like, a week.”

He falls silent then. I walk myself over to him, sit down beside him, and carefully wrap my arms around his shoulders, hugging him gently. It’s then that I hear him sniffle, and I realise that he really is crying. I think he’s breaking.

“I just want to go home,” he whines sadly, the tears warping his voice slightly. “I want all this to never have happened. I don’t want to die here. I want to spend my birthday with my family. I want another Christmas with them. But I don’t know how much longer I can last in here.”

I don’t say anything to that. I just hug him tightly and will him to get better.

That night, I wait with Peej for a while before going off with Dan. I wish I could stay with him, but after I didn’t take my pill this morning, I worry that I won’t be able to get to sleep. Plus, I’m sure he doesn’t want me - he’s still mad, he said he doesn’t trust me. Hugging him won’t have changed that.

As I lay with Dan, I really struggle to sleep. And I realise, now that I’m stuck awake, that Dan doesn’t seem to sleep either. Has this been a regular thing? I suppose I have always fallen asleep first, so there was no way of knowing his sleeping schedule.

“Fuck, you really can’t sleep tonight, can you?” he whispers, letting me know he’s still very much awake. I shake my head, confirming his suspicions. “I saw what happened with Peej today.”  _Saw?_ Oh, he really does still have cameras on us. Now that makes a lot of things make sense. “I’ll let him go soon. I promise. And I mean alive and well, in case you were wondering.” I feel so relieved to hear that. “I want you to know that I was never going to kill him - or either of you. I’m not a murderer. I don’t like causing people pain.” I believe him.

He pauses for a moment, thinking. “I’m sorry,” he says, heartfelt. “I’m sorry for all the times that I’ve hurt you. And for threatening to kill you - those were the worst. But I promise you, I never wanted to do it. I thought it was for the greater good, at the time. But I was mad, and I can see that now.” Again, I don’t hesitate to believe him.

Even in this lack of light, I can see him for who he really is: that little boy. He’s tried so hard, almost driven himself insane, in his love for me. I want to ask him now:  _Do you really love me?_  I don’t know what I would do with that information.

“Phil…” he whispers, the hint of an idea subtle in his voice. He starts to rub his fingers lightly along the skin of my arms - I don’t think he’s meaning to do it. “Can you really not sleep right now?” I shake my head - I’m not even remotely tired. There’s no chance for me tonight. Dan sighs in relief at that. “Thank god, because neither can I. And I was thinking… Now that it’s just us two, we could… We could…” I see him bite his lip. “Would you want to go out?”

I push myself up at the question. Is he really asking this?

“I could take us somewhere. A little midnight drive, maybe grab some food or a drink. Like a date.” He seems to hesitate, like he wasn’t supposed to say that. “Or not a date at all. Just a little trip together.”

I think about that. But I don’t think for very long - what harm could a journey like that do? I nod my head at him, agreeing, finding myself eager to see the outside world again.

Dan’s face brightens in excitement. “Really? Oh, we’ll have so much fun!”

We don’t have to go back to Peej’s room for anything before we go - most of my clothes are still in this room, after all, it used to be my own. Dan flicks the light on excitedly and starts to dress himself, so I do the same, feeling surprised that Dan isn’t wearing any of my own clothes. We sort our hair out - Dan has to take a while to straighten it, which I’d forgotten he has to do - and before I know it we’re treading down the stairs, heart in my mouth, I can’t believe we’re really doing this, and then the front door is opening and I’m outside. I’m outside. For the first time in ages. The air feels cold and crispy but I can’t dare complain - Peej’s room has been getting stuffy. It’s so spacey and the air is so light and fresh. I breathe it in, greedily, enjoying this new freedom.

Dan tugs me by my arm to his car - his car, he’s brought his car. He leads me to the passenger seat and takes the driver seat himself. He doesn’t even put the child-lock on. And then he’s driving - why does it feel weird that Dan is driving?

“Are you alright?” he asks me suddenly. I just glance over to him, wondering why he’s asking. “You’re spacing out a little. Is it weird to be outside again?” I nod confidently to that. Dan shows me a smile. “I’m happy that we can do this again.” He takes his hand off the gear stick, like he wants to reach it to me, but he replaces it again. “You know I trust you, right? I’ve always trusted you.” I nod to him for that too, almost showing him a smile. When was the last time I properly smiled?

He takes me to this restaurant, I think - it’s not very busy, or very extravagant. I’d probably call it a mix between a fast-food restaurant and a bar.

Dan shows me the menu and asks for what I’d like - I just point to some chips, nothing too big, he feeds us well enough. Then he asks what drink I might like. He shows me the alcoholic menu. I look at him worriedly.

“It’s alright,” he says. “I won’t get you drunk. What would be the fun when I still have to drive us home?” I look down at the list. “Just one drink. How about that? I want to treat you tonight.”

I let him have this, eventually deciding on a rum and coke. Dan gets a glass of coke for himself as well.

He sits there, after he’s brought over the drinks, quite awkwardly, like he were alone at this table. But I suppose, in a way, he is: the person he’s with has expressed before his reluctance to being in his company, and he can’t get a word out of him. Right now, Dan looks lonely. And I feel sorry for him.

“I want to talk to you,” he mutters almost quietly, though the music in here is loud enough to stop anyone from hearing us. “About us.” He glances shyly at me, his head laying in the hoop of his arms on top of the table. “Not about the future. But about the present, and a bit of the past. Is that okay?”

Nervous, but feeling unable to object, I nod my head.

So Dan continues. “It’s all my fault. I’ll admit that now. It’s because of me that we’ve all got into this mess and I’m too childish to figure out how to resolve it.” He slumps further into his arms, as if he’s trying to hide. “It’s all because I wanted you, when I shouldn’t have, and I was too young and stupid to know how relationships really work. I used to…” I see his cheeks beginning to burn up with embarrassment. “I used to watch porn, a lot, when I was younger. Not like… not for that - to learn. I thought dating was all about sex.” His eyes leave me, ducking completely into the safe space between his arms. “So I thought I wanted… I wanted you for that. Then I got so confused, when we were talking, why it hurt so much to be so far from you. And then, when I first came to yours, and we cuddled a lot, I didn’t understand. It felt… nice, and new, and I liked it, and I didn’t know what I wanted anymore.”

I just watch on, listening intently. Dan has never told me about himself like this before.

He sighs, but doesn’t move from his hiding place. “Being in a relationship - being with someone - has always been alien to me. I had so many ideas about what it’s supposed to be like that I didn’t know what was reality anymore. I didn’t know if I was just faking something, pretending, re-enacting something I’d seen in a film. You know - ” He finally lifts his head and looks at me, pleading with his eyes, desperate for me to listen. “ - I’ve been acting since I could walk. It’s been most of childhood. I’ve done it so much that I completely forgot how to develop as my own person, without all the acting. So I became empty, void of any true personality. So I just kept acting. I always pretended to be someone I wanted to be, everything felt like I was on stage, or in front of some camera, like my life has always been a performance.” His eyes well up - he’s starting to cry. “That’s what happened when I got stuck in this mess with you. That’s why I keep shifting from nice to psycho - because I can’t help myself.” He reaches his hands forward hesitantly, back still arched, keeping himself low, and I put my hands in his to give him comfort. “I don’t know who I’m supposed to be. Without you, I’m bored, and I’m empty again. With you, it’s the only time that I truly feel something that’s different from any pretence. That’s why I cling to you. And I’m so scared, if I let you go, I’ll never know who I really am.” His fingers squeeze mine desperately. “You’re the only one who can help me.”

Then he pauses, glances around the room anxiously, and takes his hands away to wipe away his tears.

“I’m sorry…” he mutters, voice cracking with his current state. “I didn’t mean to make a scene again. I don’t want to guilt you into anything, or beg you, because everything about me in your life has hurt you. It’s better if I just let you go.”

I take his hand impulsively, without really thinking. And Dan stares at me, surprised, anxious, when I do it. I realise that he’s right - I’m the only one who can see him, the true him. I can see, in moments like this, the young boy who sits before me, who just wants to hold my hand and have me take care of him. In these moments, I no longer fear him, because it’s not really him that I fear. Instead, I pity him, and I want to comfort him.

I raise my other hand to his cheek, carefully clearing away some final tears. Dan sits still as I do it, barely even breathing. He must feel a little strange whenever I willingly get so close to him. Then I wrap my fingers round his head, gently, and lean forwards, pressing my lips to his shyly and kissing him gently. I hope it relaxes him. I want to tell him - and I probably would right now, on impulse, if I were using my voice like before, that I don’t want to cause him anymore pain, and I want to help him.

When I sit back, his eyes are wide, but nonetheless, he’s bearing a sweet smile - and a slight blush.

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, drinking, brief and undetailed smut, captivity, mentions of murder (no actual murder or death threats though), mentions of restraint and drugging, emotional manipulation**

Our chips arrive after that, so we end that conversation and distract ourselves with food and drink. Dan doesn’t say anything after that. I hope he’s not feeling embarrassed by what he’s said.

Once the chips are gone, Dan starts up conversation again, getting a little chirpier and happier again with every sip of his drink. He tells me about how excited, yet scared, he is about starting university next year, and that’s why he deferred. I want to offer him my help, since I won’t be too far away from him. One his glass is empty, he orders another two, so I finish up my own to not waste him his money. Those two lead to another two, and I stop us there, because I have an odd feeling that Dan isn’t acting completely sober.

“Oh, fuck,” he says, pouting. “I forgot I’m supposed to be driving tonight. I always forget! You know, I don’t drive that much, so how was I supposed to remember?” He shakes his head and pushes himself up onto his feet. “Looks like we’re gonna have to walk, Phil. But it might be quite nice, at this time. We might see the sunrise on the way.”

I agree with that - my house isn’t too far from this place, I think I know the way.

Dan walks with me just fine out of the building. He hasn’t drank too much then, looks like he’s just a little tipsy. He leads me to his car - which is just around the corner, sitting all by itself in the dark - and he opens the back door for me - I left my coat in here, since the walk wasn’t far, but it’s far too cold out to go without it.

As I move to reach inside, I trip over Dan’s foot, which he hasn’t moved out of the way, and in my stumbling panic I wrap my arms around Dan to keep me from falling - but we’ve both drunk too much, it seems, and we collapse with a squeal onto the back seats of the car. Behind me, without us to hold it open, the car door swings closed.

For a moment, I try to catch my breath - the fall practically winded me. Then I stare at Dan, who looks equally as surprised.

We burst out laughing, unable to help ourselves. The alcohol feels like it’s bubbling up the giggles inside my chest. Are we really that tipsy?

“I had a great night,” Dan says - such a cliché. He wriggles himself a little beneath me, trying to get comfortable. “I’m really happy that you came with me.”

One of his hands starts to play at my thigh, probably without him really noticing, and I see Dan’s eyes falling down to my mouth. We’re really close all of a sudden.

I find myself kissing him without thinking about it, and Dan kisses me back. His hands start to tug at my shirt, so I let him pull it off, doing the same for his. My mouth slips down to his neck, and he lets out a whine, and then my fingers are in his trousers. I pull them down, I nudge his legs apart, I’m not thinking anymore about anything but him, and Dan grips me tightly when I push my fingers inside. His arms are wrapped around my chest, holding me close, keeping me kissing at his neck. He’s whispering breathlessly into my ear already, begging for me, and I oblige. For the first time in a while, I feel my voice returning, like a lost treasure, and as I kneel over Dan, framing him beneath me, holding his wrists above his head in my hands, against his lips I find my voice breathing out his name.

We fall asleep after that: with Dan curling his fingers through my hair, and with me whispering a breathless and hoarse  _thank you._

When we wake, my head hurts lightly from the alcohol. I look over, to the space right in front of me, to see Dan, peacefully asleep. I’ve never woken up before him before. This is moment to treasure. One of my hands is holding his gently between our chest, and my either is wrapped around his head, holding him close. The sight makes me smile. Right now, for one of the first times, I truly have Dan in my own arms.

I reach my fingers past his hair to lightly stroke the skin of his face, and it doesn’t wake him. It seems, in this light perhaps, that when he sleeps, all that strangeness and awkwardness around him just fades away, and I’m seeing him for who he truly is. This sleeping look seems to take five years off of his complexion. He sighs in his sleep, having a little stretch, and falls relaxed again. Subtly, I feel him nuzzling against my hand. My heart clenches and flutters simultaneously when he does that. He’s so damn cute.

I look down slightly, at his lips, and I wonder if I’m feeling what Dan feels with me: I reach forwards and carefully take his lips against my own, kissing him sweetly, and when I pull away I see Dan’s eyes openly sleepily. Upon seeing me so close, his cheeks flush a sweet pink, and he starts to smile.

“Hey there,” he mutters, still tired. I’ve hardly really seen morning Dan. “You’re up before me.” I nod my head, smiling proudly, because I’m so glad that I’ve finally gotten to see him like this.

Timidly, he reaches his hand up to my face and places it on my cheek, his smile widening. And I don’t even consider moving away from his touch: it’s warming, and it’s loving, and I find myself liking it. I’m not surprised by that feeling.

Dan stares at me like the sun has suddenly come out. “You’re not scared of me anymore,” he says, surprised. “Are you?” I answer by shaking my head, a smile growing on my face. I know I’m not scared of him - there’s nothing to be scared about, not with the real Dan.

Timidly, and watching me carefully, Dan places his hands around my neck, holding us close, and I don’t object to the move. His eyes are starting glow with hope and anticipation.

“We’ve changed,” he says quietly. I agree with him. He’s scanning my face, almost fearfully, wanting to make sure that I’m not lying to him. “I… I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to fuck this up.” I can feel his heart starting to beat quickly, nervously, inside his chest.

So I pull Dan closer, until I can almost kiss him. His eyes are wide now, surprised that I’m making the advances. “I don't… regret this,” I say, now that I’ve unlocked my voice again. My throat feels tight and dry as my voice breaks through, aching from its lack of use. A bright smile shines from Dan’s youthful face. “I like being with you.”

His heart is practically racing against my chest.

“You… do you… would you want this to be, like, normal between us?” He frowns and shakes his head. “No, I mean - would you want to stay like this? With me?”

I consider the question. There’s a cloud over any possible thoughts of the past, because all that is irrelevant now. Here and now, in this moment, is when the real Phil and the real Dan are deciding to be together. And I’m not scared.

I nod my head. “Of course,” I whisper, showing him a truthful smile. “I want you with me.” His breath catches his throat, so I kiss him, feeling him desperately kiss me back, his fingers tense but not quite grabbing my hair - then they relax, laying down across the skin of my neck, and for once, the kiss is finally mutual. I pull away slightly, just enough to speak. “I like you, Dan. I really do.”

Dan holds onto me, keeping close, and I never want to let him go.

Then his expression changes. It looks like he’s realised something.

“Shit,” he says, looking more deflated than worried. “It’s nearly lunchtime.” I stare at him, trying to figure out what’s wrong. And then it clicks: “Peej. He’ll be up by now, there’s no doubt. He’s going to know that we’re gone.”

I nod to Dan to jump to the wheel, and he does, taking us quickly back to the house.

We run inside, still in our clothes from last night, and lock the door tightly behind us.

I hear Peej squeal from upstairs, accompanied by some thuds, and Dan, flashing me a sad look, leads us both upstairs and to the door.

I wonder what Peej must have thought, when he woke up: did he know that me and Dan were together? Or did he think that he had taken me? What might he think is going to happen to him now?

Carefully, Dan opens the door, and I hear Peej scamper to the far end of the room, his back slamming against the wall. He’s breathing - or sniffling - incredibly fast.

“Please - ” he cries, his voice breaking. “Tell you didn’t - that Phil - ”

Dan takes a timid step forwards, into the room, and Peej lets out a yelp - I cringe at the sound.

“Oh god - please, Dan - I don’t want to die!”

“It’s alright,” Dan whispers to him calmly. He’s raised his hands in a mock surrender. Meanwhile I’m stuck just outside the door, frozen in place, too terrified and ashamed to even look at him. “I’m not going to hurt you. You were never going to die here.”

Peej lets out a distressed whine, and I’m sure he wants to run or hide, but it’s no use - being in that room is like fighting a war on a field plain. “No, you’re lying! Please - s-stay away!” This time, Dan doesn’t try to get closer. It surprises me how sudden his attitude towards Peej has changed - before, he despised him, but now, he’s sympathetic. Why does that sound familiar? “If you let me go, I won’t say anything, I promise. I just - please, it will devastate my family if I die.”

Dan sighs, giving up, and turns to shoot me a pleading look. I can tell what he’s asking. I pass Dan and walk into the room myself, and I see Peej curled up in the corner of the room, his whole body shivering, hiding his face behind his knees. I hear the door shut behind me, but it doesn’t lock.

Peej shoots his head up at the noise, probably thinking that either Dan has brought himself inside or that he’s left him alone. But instead of those scenarios, his eyes land on me - standing alone in the centre of the room. His eyes are horribly red and his cheeks are stained with tears, and the sight makes my own eyes swell.

“Phil!” he gasps out, his voice struggling. “You're… Thank god, I thought you were dead.”

I try to smile, like he’s just cracked a joke. Then I sit myself down on the floor with him, but still keeping my distance.

“Peej…” I start, without preparing anything to say. What should I be doing? Telling Peej the truth? What even is the truth? What am I supposed to be achieving with him right now? At the sound of my voice, Peej can’t help but crack me a wide grin, expelling a relieved sigh. I clear my throat and try again. “I’m sorry,” I tell him, my voice keeping small and quiet. “I’ve - ” My throat constricts, still aching. So I bring my hand to it, massaging gently. I try again. “I’ve lied,” I say. “Gone behind your back. He…” I hesitate. “Dan was kind to me. Brought me pills. Wanted to help. I was ashamed…” I look down at the floor. “Didn’t want you knowing. You would be mad.”

I look up to Peej then, desperate to finally see his face, to see his reaction, my shame, reflected in his undeceived and judging eyes. But there’s nothing there, nothing that I expected - there’s still only tears.

“I saw him, at night, to sleep,” I admit quietly, now keeping my eyes locked on Peej’s. “I’d come back by morning.”

“But why?” Peej asks, finally, making dread begin to bubble in my stomach. “Why would you go and see him, when we’re so afraid? I thought you couldn’t stand him being with us - with you.”

I nod, only subtly. “I used to…” Out of nervousness, I begin to tangle my fingers together. “But Dan, he's… he changed.”

Peej scoffs - only lightly, like he couldn’t help it. “Changed?” he repeats, like he heard me wrong. “How?”

Anticipatingly, I swallow quietly. “He’s kind,” I say, believing it. I don’t feel like I’m lying to Peej right now. Consciously, this is exactly how I feel, and what I believe. “He’s loving. He doesn’t like hurting us.” I begin to massage my throat again, feeling my voice quickly running dry. “I think…” I gulp again, trying to salvage the rest of my voice. “I like him.”

I stare at Peej, with my heart pounding. And Peej simply stares back. I wonder what he’s thinking -  _he’s finally lost it,_  perhaps, or  _brainwashed._ Maybe that’s right. The result remains the same: I’ve come to like Dan.

The door creaks open behind me, and I glance over my shoulder, to be met with Dan deciding to join us. That’s probably for the best - if Peej was going to say anything like I was just thinking, he wouldn’t dare say it now. Dan walks over to me, sits himself down, and wraps his arm around my waist, and I don’t object to his touch.

“You can go home now,” Dan tells Peej quietly. “If you want. I won’t try to stop you. There’s nothing I’ve wanted more than for you to be able to go free - both of you,” Dan corrects, squeezing me gently. “But there were complications. Now, however, those problems are gone. So you don’t have to stay trapped here anymore.”

Peej is still staring, but his eyes are wider, and more unsure. “I don't… don’t understand…” he mumbles, very slowly starting to uncurl himself. “How can I go home?”

I feel it click, in my mind, like the lighting of a candle, or the flick of a light switch. “You’re not a threat anymore,” I say, before Dan can answer. I feel him turn to look at me. “We’re happy now. I’m not Dan’s prisoner anymore.” I say this with a smile, because there’s no reason for Dan to imprison me anymore - he’s achieved what he wanted with me, he finally has me without the trickery. I finally truly like him. “If you try and break me out, I won’t go with you, because I want to stay.” I wrap my own arm lovingly around Dan’s waist, and he leans forward and gently kisses my neck, which makes my cheeks blush. I can feel the heat radiating from his own face as well, since he got that close. “If you try convincing people that I’ve been kidnapped, I’ll deny it, because I don’t want anything to happen to Dan. What’s passed is past. It wasn’t pleasant, and we regret it, but I understand it.”

Dan nuzzles his face into my shoulder when I say that - he’s definitely happy with me.

I turn back to Peej. He’s finally uncurled himself now. I hope I’m getting across the right message to him, because he’s searching me, trying to find that glint or flash of what’s hidden that says  _run_ or  _help me_ , but what I’m trying to say is  _this is real, Peej, I really do like him_.

I show him a happy smile. “You’ve wanted to go home for a long time now,” I remind him. “So go. Get some fresh air. We’ll be okay.”

Peej, still very nervously, stands himself up at last, and makes his way to the door. “I…” he starts, unsure of what he wants to say, or maybe he knows, but he doesn’t know whether or not he can say it. He drops it, sighing. “Okay then. If that’s what you want.”

As he reaches the door, Dan stands by his word: he doesn’t go to stop him.

“Don’t feel you’re getting kicked out,” Dan jumps in with quickly, prompting Peej to turn round to us again. “If you’re uncertain, you’re welcome to stay.”

Peej looks to me. I show him a welcoming smile. He certainly looks unsure about this, but I don’t blame him. “Are you… And you’re sure about this?” he asks me nervously. I’m surprised by his reaction - I thought he would disapprove, that he’d call me insane, but he’s accepting this rather well, if not with some confusion. It relieves me to see. “You really like him?”

I pull Dan closer to me, letting him rest his head on my shoulder. “I really do.” No trickery here. No sneaky glances. This isn’t the same as it was when we both first woke up in this room after Dan’s return. This time, there are no lies. And I’m relieved that I’ve finally developed true feelings for Dan.

Then Peej does something that really does surprise me, but in a bad way: he sighs. It’s heavy, and it’s the sound of giving up. Why isn’t he happy? He’s finally getting to go home. He doesn’t have to worry about me anymore.

“I want to call you,” he demands, though quietly. He’s standing up taller now than he was before. “And I want to visit you both. Unscheduled.”

Dan nods to that, surprisingly - that’s a lie, it would only be surprising of the Dan before, when he was still trying to sneak around with me. “Of course. You’re the only person that knows about us - not just  _us_ , as a couple, but everything as well. Of course you want to make sure that Phil is okay, and I won’t object to that.”

I wonder if Peej still feels the urge to hit him, or if maybe Dan has that feeling.

“I want to say that I’m sorry,” Dan says to him, looking sadder than usual. “I’m sorry for what I’ve done to you. But I was panicked, and territorial - I didn’t know how to protect my ambitions and what I’d been working for. For a while, I was practically psychotic. But I swear - I never wanted to hurt you. I want to make it up to you,” He says, with a light, kind smile. “Think of anything, and I’ll do it. I promise. Okay?”

Peej, to my amazement, actually smiles back. “Thank you.”

He spends a while gathering his things, and Dan helps him. I try to as well, but they both rather I rest my voice, drinking plenty of water.

And then the door shuts. The house is back to just me and Dan. And it doesn’t fill me with dread.

It’s happened. It has finally happened. After months of captivity, I am finally free. Dan is no longer a fear, a threat, the controller of my fate: now, he’s my boyfriend. And I’ve never been happier.

_Peej worries, as he leaves the house behind him, driving away with his fingers gripping tightly around the steering wheel. He doesn’t believe it - what he’s just seen, what has happened between those two. He doesn’t doubt that Phil has fallen for Dan, not at all. But it’s certainly not a true resolution. That was made clear to him a while ago:_

_It was a night in November, during the time that Peej was submitting himself to sedation by drugs unnamed to him in order to keep Phil safe. But it was a night that he was sick of it, and he wanted to stop -_

_Dan pinned him down on his bed, cuffing his wrists to the frame at the head, and slapped him a few times for good measure. But he wasn’t mad as such, anymore, not once he had Peej like this. No - he was chuckling._

_“You’re a sick - ” Peej gasped, quickly muffled by Dan shoving a gag into his mouth._

_“Shh,” Dan sung quietly, like a whisper, pressing his index finger against Peej’s new mouth restraint. He was kneeling by his waist to keep him still, but Peej was still trying to struggle. “You’re crying against the inevitable. I know the real reason that you’re objecting now - it’s because you can see Phil in pain. Maybe you’ve caught on to my plan.” He ran his hand through Peej’s hair, to which his hostage tried to strain away from. Dan let himself smile. “It’s a shame, really. I thought you might be more willing when the time came. But it looks like I’ll just have to sedate you further, until you’re nothing…” Dan purred tauntingly, running his hand by the fingers down Peej’s neck and causing him to squirm, “… but a ragdoll for me. I should have thought of that earlier.”_

_Dan was surprised to see tears at his captive’s eyes - that certainly hadn’t happened before. He let his smile grow at the sight, and what it meant - he had finally broken him._

_“I’ll let you in on a little secret, shall I?” Dan whispered, leaning in close. Peej shut his eyes and turned his head away, letting out an unintentional frightened whimper. That only caused Dan to laugh. “But first, I’ll tell you: it’s quite likely that this part of the plan won’t work. And if it doesn’t, then I’m fully prepared for that. But don’t be mistaken - in end, no matter what, I will succeed. I’m certain of it. And I’ll tell you why.”_

_He leaned in closer, until his mouth was beside Peej’s ear._

_“He’s already in love with me. Maybe not very much, granted, but he’s on the homestretch. It won’t take me long to culture those feelings inside him - it was the planting of the seed that was the real struggle, anyway.”_

_Dan drew away, with that big classic grin on his face. Then he cocked his head._

_“Don’t believe me? I’ll show you. I’ll prove to you that he’ll run to me eventually.” He grinned. “Think of it like a beach, Peej: you’re the sand, I’m the sea, and Phil is between us. I’ve studied longshore drift a lot, and maybe you have too. With every action I take, though it may seem like I’m pushing Phil away, the result is always an invisible pull further to me. And the further he’s brought, the deeper he falls, and the more he succumbs to my current until there’s no reluctance left. The more that happens, the further he’ll travel from you. He won’t need you anymore, because he’ll have me. He’ll stop talking to you, he’ll stop sharing, he’ll probably blank you. At that point, he’ll start lying. He always does it, when he doesn’t want someone in his life - ” Dan leant back a bit, giving Peej an empathetic look “ - we both know that he does it, don’t we?”_

_Peej didn’t answer to that, but he knew Dan was right._

_Dan leant off the bed for a moment and brought his laptop out, clicking a few times to open the right file, and turned it round, showing Peej the start of a video that portrayed a scene all too familiar to him - it was the time of Dan’s return. Dan had already moved it to the important bit, skipping out everything right up to Peej losing consciousness._

_“This is the one thing Phil is certain to deny,” Dan told Peej bluntly. “If he really cares about you, then he’ll let you what happened - he’ll tell you the truth. But if not…” Behind the laptop, Peej can’t see Dan smiling. “If he lies, then at least you know the truth.”_

_Peej thinks back, to the time that Phil had started growing distant, and in worry of Dan being right, he had asked him:_

_“Can you tell me, just this one thing: did you go through with it?”_

_Peej watched on, his heart pounding, desperate for the right answer, because he knew - he knew the truth, and he knew that Dan’s predictions were playing out._

_Phil, confidently, shook his head. And Peej’s heart sunk._

_So he knows, as much as he hates it, that Dan hasn’t really changed: Phil is still his prisoner. And there’s nothing Peej can do, because Phil doesn’t know that he’s still trapped, and they’ll both deny it._

_For now, all Peej can do is be grateful that he’s making it home alive. Because Dan’s analogy is right: as sand there’s nothing he can do but sit back and watch Phil blindly fall further away._

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: mentions of captivity and violence (dreams/flashbacks), restraint, strong language**

_My captor laughs at me, mockingly, pathetically. “You really are gullible,” he boasts, walking round me like a predator stalking his prey. “But I didn’t think you’d fall for this so easily.”_

_I squirm as violently as I can, desperate to break myself free: I’ve been tied to the bed - an altered bed - by my wrists and ankles. My chest and legs are bear, and on them, Dan has drawn lines for his knife to follow. “Please!” I cry, a combination of sweat and tears falling down my face. “I didn’t do anything wrong! Why are you doing this?”_

_Dan, once again, just laughs. “What did you expect? A happy relationship? I’m a psychopath, Phil! Hurting you is what I really want to do! All that emotional stuff was just another game to me.”_

_He picks up the knife - fuck, it’s far longer that the last ones he’s used. On his face, he’s bearing a wide, sadistic grin._

I jolt awake, screaming. But Dan has me, in his arms, to help me calm down.

“It’s alright,” he soothes me gently. “I’m here. Nothing will hurt you.” His nuzzles his head against my jaw, cuddling close, and with this comfort it doesn’t take long for my anxiety to fade away.

“Thank you,” I whimper, bringing my hand up between us for Dan to hold onto.

After a while, once he’s made sure that I’m okay, Dan pulls his head away, so he can see me properly. He notices a faint trail of tears on my cheeks, so he wipes them off carefully, making sure not to hurt me. At his touch, the corners of my mouth curl into a light smile. It’s amazing: now that I’ve let him in, and let him close, I can finally appreciate how much he wants to care for me. All that pain was just his frustration and uncertainty. But now, he can truly show me how much love he really has for me. And it’s beautiful.

“I’m so glad you’re finally here,” Dan whispers, like he’s scared if he speaks too loudly I might run off. “We’re here together.” I recognise that the  _here_ he’s talking about is abstract - he means romantically, we’re almost in the same place now. Unlike before, I won’t deny that. I have feelings for Dan, my old friend that I met on the internet. And he loves me. Why would I want to be anywhere else?

I don’t regret how far we’ve come.

“Do you want some breakfast now that you’re awake?” I consider that, only briefly, and I nod my head. Dan’s face breaks out into a lovely smile - of course, I’d almost forgotten how upsetting it is for him when I don’t eat. For him, agreeing to eat probably appears that I’m trusting him. For me, I don’t know what it means. Sometimes I don’t feel like eating, and I can’t stomach anything. Right now, I’m feeling okay. Dan pushes himself up slightly, signalling that he’s about to get up and leave the bed. “I’m go get you some - you just stay here and keep resting.”

An idea comes to me as I lay there watching Dan get up - I want to surprise him, wrap my arms around him and drag him down to the bed again, whining that I don’t want him to go just yet. I think he’ll be really happy with that. I reach both my hands out to him -

My left is tugged back. My heart drops at the familiar feeling. I try again. Dan’s staring at me now, his smile fading. He can see the distress bubbling on my face.

“Dan?” I whine, staring at the handcuffs that chain my wrist to the bedframe. “What's… what’s going on?”

He climbs back onto the bed, kneeling over me, placing his hands to my face. “Calm down, it’s alright.” I can’t - my heart is beating erratically fast.

“I-I don’t understand, I thought - I thought we were okay! I thought you trusted me!”

“I do! Of course I do!” Dan reassures me. He takes my right hand between his own and squeezes, trying to calm me down. “I thought you’d understand. You said you understood.” He brings my hand up and kisses it softly. “Of course I trust you - I want to trust you. But I’m far more scared that this - your feelings - aren’t real, and you’ll leave me. I can’t risk that. Don’t you understand? I thought you’d be okay with this.”

I feel tears forming in my eyes. This isn’t fair - why am I still his hostage? “But I swear - this is real! I’m not faking anything.”

To my surprise, tears are welling in Dan’s eyes too. “You know I can’t trust that.” Sadly, I know. “Just… please be okay with it. It’s only temporary.”

I move my gaze to the cuff - my new, familiar, seemingly permanent restraint. “You said that before…”

“And I wasn’t lying,” he says confidently. Dan brings his left hand to my chin and encourages me back to him. And I can see, in his eyes, the lack of any malicious intent. He’s truly upset that I’m upset with him. “I let Peej go. And you, as well. You’re out of that room.” He leans a little closer to me. “Believe me - I want to take this off.”

“Then do it,” I plead.

Dan just shakes his head. “You’re not listening, are you? I want nothing more than for our relationship to be completely trustworthy. But I can’t risk it ending. Don’t you see?”

I sigh quietly to myself. Unfortunately, I do understand where he’s coming from. It’s the same thing as it’s always been between us two, all the supposedly unnecessary precautions. But when I really think about, this is good of him: he wants to keep me close. He doesn’t want to hurt me, he doesn’t like upsetting me. It means that Dan is desperate to keep me in his life. It means he really does love me.

So I nod my head. “I understand.” I fall down into the bed in defeat, accepting this restraint.

I expected Dan to smile, maybe even kiss me boastingly, because he’s won. But he isn’t - he’s frowning. He’s upset.

“Don’t be like that. Please.” Now he’s whining like a little child. “I don’t want to upset you. Don’t think that this is anything like before, between you and me. We’re different now. I trust you - I promise, I really do.”

Then he sits up a bit, onto his heels, giving me some space.

“Promise me that if anything upsets you or annoys you, you’ll tell me. Because I will fix it. We’re in a relationship now - you can’t expect me to run it the way you want.” He takes my right hand into his left and squeezes gently. “Promise me.”

I consider those words. It’s new of him, trusting, and certainly strange. But it’s too expected. It’s too much of an aspirational concept, too much what he knows I want to hear. So how can I believe it?

I glance away from him, knowing that, like this, I’ll just keep upsetting him. “Just not this though, right?” I dare to say back. It makes Dan sigh. “I don’t want you lying to me. That isn’t how relationships work.”

Dan lowers his head, ashamed. “I’m sorry,” he whines quietly. “I just want you to be happy.”

“You want me to be happy with everything you do,” I correct. “That isn’t the same thing.”

Dan doesn’t say anything back. He just pushes himself up, takes his hand away from mine, and makes for the door.

“I’ll get us some breakfast,” he says quietly, as a final thought. Then he shuts the door behind him.

I wonder: can Dan really sustain a proper relationship? Why hadn’t I thought of that before? Maybe he needs me to help him, to show him how to do it. Or maybe, in the end, he just won’t care. We might end up reverting back to everything before. He seemed more comfortable then. But I really don’t want that to happen. Right now, the best possible outcome for me is an almost normal relationship with him, so that’s what I have to work towards. Even if it doesn’t truly make me happy. I should have known, earlier, that in reality my happiness doesn’t matter - only Dan’s does. I make him happy - I  _let_  him be happy, and I don’t get hurt. And Peej, of course: no one else gets hurt either.

The idea of escape hasn’t crossed my mind in a long time. I won’t let it. It isn’t an option, and never was. The best way for me to be happy is to stay right here, with Dan, letting him love me. So this is where I’ll stay.

What can I say about my own feelings, for him? I honestly don’t know. They’re confusing to me. Maybe they’re just an illusion, or my mind fucking up. Maybe they’re real. I don’t even know what I really feel. There just seems to be some connection, to Dan, whenever he’s near me. I feel a craving similar to wanting to pull him closer. I find him pleasant to look at - moreso than I did before. But how can I know what any of it means? I’ve never liked someone before.

Tears start to well in my eyes, so I wipe them away. Ugh - look at me, crying like a child at twenty-two. I wish none of this had happened. I wish Dan could have liked me like a normal person. I wouldn’t have minded that. If I’d known what I know now about him, then I wouldn’t have been so hard on him. I wouldn’t mind if we were dating normally right now. I beg for that.

I wonder how much this has ruined Dan’s life, as well.

He creeps the door open when he comes back, sneaking his head shyly round into the room. He looks like he’s been crying.

“I’m sorry…” Dan cries, refusing to look at me. “I didn’t mean to get mad. I didn’t mean to upset you. I hope we can get past this.”

I try to swallow subtly. We’re not in the situation that I thought we were going to be in. We haven’t fixed everything. I still have to appease him. “It’s alright,” I answer, knowing I have to. “I’m sorry for arguing about it. You know what’s best for us.” He smiles at that - that’s definitely it then, it’s proven: I’m still answering to him.

“One day,” he continues, finally walking into the room. He’s holding a plate of pancakes, so I sit myself up on the bed. I haven’t had pancakes in a while - it must be a treat in his mind, to show that we’re in a good place. “One day, we’ll take that off, and we can finally be together.” Dan perches himself on the edge of the bed and brings his hand to my face, stroking my cheek gently. “We will finally be a real couple. Doesn’t that sound good?”

I nod to him, smiling, because it really does. It’s the way up from here.

We’re in my room again now, like we were when Peej was still here, like our first nights together. Dan must like it in here - that should be obvious, considering he found me through YouTube.

There are some upsides to this situation, of course: Dan doesn’t seem like he wants to hurt me anymore. No, it’s more than that - he avoids it. Believe me, I’ve try to test him.

“Dan,” I ask him, trying to hide my nervousness because I can never fully trust him. Dan hums - he was watching something on my laptop - and turns round to me. “Have you ever thought about what your life would be like if you didn’t have me?”

He frowns a little - not angry, just a little sad. “Why would I do that?”

I shuffle a little under the covers. “Well, it’s just… I don’t feel like you’ve ever believed a future without me to be possible. Doesn’t that bother you, even a little?”

Dan quickly shakes his head. “Of course not! I don’t want to imagine a future where I’ve fallen out with you, let alone separated completely.”

He falls quiet, so I take a step further. “Don’t think about any future - think about the past. What if our paths had never crossed?”

Dan squeezes his eyes shut, as if to block me out. “Stop it,” he whines. “Don’t talk like that. I’m happy here - I’ve only ever been happy with you in my life. Don’t try to ruin that for me.” He opens his eyes again and glares at me - he’s upset, definitely, but more disappointed than angry.

That’s something I can’t get used to - his disappointment. I don’t know how or why, but it affects me.

I can’t be certain that I scenario like that would’ve made him hurt me before. But I can confidently say that I would never have dared to say such a thing to him.

“Why would you say this?” he asks me sadly. As it turns out, not to my surprise, Dan is pretty easy to upset. “Are you happy with me? Don’t tell me you regret us ever meeting?”

Ah. That’s my biggest problem - his need for validation. It certainly isn’t new, but it’s more intense than it used to be.

Dan crawls over to me and holds my head in his hands. There’s almost fear in his eyes. “Tell me you’re happy,” he demands. “Tell me you don’t regret us.”

“I’m happy,” I answer without delay. Even if I don’t believe it, I have to say it. “Of course I’m happy. I have you.” I bring my right hand to his face as well. “Nothing makes me happier.”

Dan smiles - blushing a little - and sits back, sighing in relief.

“But - ” I continue, and I notice his back straighten, on high alert. “What if there is no future between us? What if we can’t make it work?”

He doesn’t hesitate to jump in. “We’ll make it - ”

“I know,” I interrupt. “But  _what if_ , Dan?”

Ever so slightly - and I don’t know if he’s ever done it before - Dan gulps.

“Do you want to spend your life with me?” he questions, the desperation clear in his voice. I nod my head straight away. “Well I do too. So it will work.” He slides himself off me. “Don’t think like that - it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you panic, everything goes under. Just know that we’ll be together no matter what.” He shows me another smile, but I think he’s worried behind it.

“I’m sorry for bringing it up.” I really am - I regret mentioning it. “It just came to mind.”

Dan doesn’t turn back to me - he focuses on the laptop again. “Bad things come to my mind, too, you know?” he says with a hint of sadness. “Don’t give them the attention they want. They’re self-destructive.”

For the first time, now that we’re in this situation, I’m worrying about Dan. I always knew that he wasn’t quite right, in the head. But I never considered him suffering before. He’s more open now than he was before, and it makes me anxious, because I don’t know how to help him.

Silence stretches between us. This doesn’t happen very often - Dan doesn’t like arguing with me.

I move myself forwards, as far as I can with my restraint, reach my right hand towards him, and hold his hand in mine. My gesture makes Dan turn back to me, looking curious.

“Talk to me,” I plead. “Tell me about these bad thoughts.” Dan seems to cringe, then he looks away. So I gently stroke his hand with my thumb, wanting to reassure him. “Please?”

He shakes his head quickly. “I don’t want to,” he cries quietly, as though he isn’t really talking to me. “I don’t like thinking about them. Besides,” he says, sighing to himself. “You’d laugh at me.”

I carefully tug on his hand. “No I won’t,” I reassure him. “I worry about you, Dan. In a relationship, you’re supposed to open up to your boyfriend.” Dan blushes instantly at that word - I’ve never used it before. It makes us both smile helplessly. “Even you told me about that. From Psychology.” He nods - Social Penetration Theory, I think it was called, or some Model of Dissolution. Though none of those things were specific to romantic relationships, if I remember rightly, but they apply. I squeeze Dan’s hand gently. “Let me help you. Then you can trust me.”

To my surprise, and relief, he nods, giving in.

“It’s just… And please don’t laugh,” he starts, mumbling quietly in early embarrassment. “I don’t like thinking about us not working out. It happens sometimes, and I can’t stop it. Scenes start to play in my mind - you fighting me, or yelling at me, or trying - ” His voice breaks. His fingers clench tightly round mine. “ - trying to find the worst kind of escape. Sometimes, you try and kill me, or at least scream that you want me dead. And I can’t stand those thoughts - they make me feel so sick. And I’m always so scared that if I can’t shut them out, then they might come true, or at least, that’s what I’ll perceive. I can’t lose you,” Dan cries, the need sounding strong and clear in his voice. He holds on to me tightly.

I understand him. That’s why he can’t cope with me being remotely against him. That’s why he needs me to always be happy with him, no matter what. It’s because he’s not okay inside, and he’s constantly anxious. If I seem unhappy with him, then Dan panics, and things happen like me getting hurt and obscure plans to regain my compliance. So when he said about not wanting to do it - hurt me, that is - now I believe him.

I don’t say anything to that - the overwhelming urge to comfort him takes over, and I pull him into a tight hug. Dan seems to gasp quietly at my move, but he falls gratefully into me, laying his hands on my back and holding on. He whispers a quiet  _thank you_  into my neck, and it makes me feel good to hear.

He spends a lot of time on his laptop - or was it my laptop? He’s either watching videos - sometimes I hear my voice - or he’s editing. He might be doing other things, but most of the time I can hear either my, Peej’s, or Dan’s voice.

“I wanted to tell you,” Dan tells me suddenly, closing his laptop screen, but not turning to look at me. I’m sitting up in bed by this point - we’ve just had dinner. “I thought about what you said, about calling me beautiful.” I try not to remember that day. “You’d never done that before. I’m certain now. You thought you had, but I’m sure you never did.” He turns round to me then, glancing at me briefly, curiously, before dropping his gaze to his lap again.

I understand what happened, what he’s talking about. Neither of us could really be sure if I’d ever said anything like that before - Dan was confusing real life with his fantasies, and I was confusing my thoughts with my speech. But Dan managed to figure it out after all - it was probably down to his cameras. If he has searched through them all again just to confirm it, I’m going to feel incredibly guilty.

“I’m sorry,” I say, reaching my hand out again for him to take. Dan hesitates, staring at it, but eventually links his fingers with mine. “I know I never said it to you. But I’ve thought it. I always have done, even since our video calls. I just assumed I’d told you amongst all of that.”

He raises his eyes to me again, looking brighter - happier. “Do you really mean that?”

I sigh - a happy, admiring sigh - and take my hand away from his to thread it through his hair. Dan tilts his head into my touch, liking it. “Of course I mean it. I always wanted to tell you, but I was scared. Honestly? I worried what you would do with that information.” That makes Dan’s smile waver slightly, but it does return - he can probably understand why I used to feel like that. “And I promise: I’ll tell you as many times as possible from now on. You deserve to know.”

I smile to him. And Dan smiles back, placing his head over mine and blissfully closing his eyes.

Nights go as usual, like they used to.

Dan turns the TV off, turns the bedside lamp on, switches the room light off, and climbs into bed with me. He lays on my left - the easiest way to get into bed when I’m already there - laying his head between my head and my left arm, bent at the elbow as I lay on my side. Once settled, he pulls the covers over the both of us, covering us well. It’s colder than it used to be, when we were spending the night together before, so I don’t object when Dan snuggles us closer to me and buries himself in my limbs to keep us both warm.

Having Dan here, like this, so close to me, reminds me of the feelings I’ve developed for him. When he’s far from me - even sitting at the end of the bed - it’s like I forget them, like I’ve tricked myself, like they’re not real. But when he lays here before me, in my arms, I feel the familiar pull from within my chest. It’s almost painful. It’s certainly desperate and sometimes, if I can’t get him close enough, it’s frustrating. It’s like a tough rope tied to my ribs, wound tightly round my lungs and heart, and it squeezes them in order to tug Dan closer to me. It makes it hard to breathe, it makes my heart pound heavily. It’s always hard to ignore. I’ve never felt these things before. I can’t know if this is love, or the beginnings of love, but it’s certainly some form of attachment.  _Attached,_ I consider deeply: I am as attached to Dan as he is to me.

Without any true conscious thought, I’m bringing my right hand up to his face and gently brushing my thumb along his cheekbone. The touch, the gesture, makes a smile grow brightly on Dan’s face. He really likes it when I’m affectionate with him like this.

“I love you,” he whispers into the dark. I smile, accepting his words. I can’t say it back - he already knows that - but I know he’s not lying. I recognise this voice - the soft texture, the kindness, the uplifting and childlike qualities within it - as the real him. There’s no malice, no deception, no psychoticism within this voice. Dan is, realistically, a child. And when he behaves as such, that’s when I know that it’s really him here beside me.

I lean forwards, closer, without thinking, and gently meet our lips. It’s like a sweet - his lips, his kiss. It’s a luxury that I can indulge in and enjoy whenever I wish, but the abundance of it doesn’t make each individual one any less sweet.

Dan buries his head into my chest, and I settle my chin over him. And we sleep, smiling, feeling calm. Feeling happy. Dan may still be a mystery to me, but right now, with him, regardless, I am happy. What more could I want?

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: mentions of captivity and violence (dreams/flashbacks), restraint, strong language, mentions of knives/blood**

Dan informs me of how he kept my and Peej’s YouTube channels updated whilst we were trapped here.

“You had a bunch of videos already stored,” he tells me. “Both of you did. So I just picked one from each and posted them. If you were going to be here for any longer, then I was going to post one a week for each of you. On different days, of course.”

I nod, understanding. In all honesty, I’m glad that Dan took the time to do that. We wouldn’t have wanted people asking questions that we didn’t want to answer.

“What about you?” I ask. “Have you posted anymore since, umm,  _Procrastination_ was it?” Wait - I remember the video Peej showed me,  _How To Befriend Your Favourite Internet Stars,_ but I don’t mention it. Dan must know that I’ve seen it, but let’s not discuss it now.

Dan smiles but shakes his head. “I haven’t the time or motivation to make any,” he admits sadly. I want to say something then, to encourage him to make one now, but Dan cuts in before I can even open my mouth. “Want to see which videos I picked out for you guys?” Disappointed, I go along with him, but I promise myself that I won’t forget to ask him.

Dan pulls the laptop into his lap and searches for Peej’s channel first, clicking on a video titled  _wild tranquility._ Dan posted it on the thirtieth of November, so not too long ago. I remember this one - me and Peej both edited it whilst we were here, before Dan had shown up. He’d already filmed all the footage at home. It was a very strange idea of his, but he loved creating it. He always loves coming up with bizarre ideas.

Then Dan goes onto my channel, and he starts to chuckle to himself.

“What?” I ask, growing a little concerned. Oh god - what weird video did he pick for me? Does he secretly want to make my channel a laughing stock?

“Sorry,” Dan comments, trying to stifle his amusement. “It’s just - well, looking back now, I probably felt a tad too bitter. It was such a good video in my opinion. But you might not remember it - you were  _extremely_ drunk that night.”

Oh  _crap_. What on earth did me and Peej create?

Dan opens up a video with a title that already tells me how embarrassing it is -  _Phillippa._

“ _Oh god no,_ ” I cry, burying my head in my hands. “I’m not drinking ever again!”

Dan doesn’t bother to try containing his laughter anymore. “Do you remember making this?”

“Fuck no!” Dan laughs at that. “How drunk  _were_ we?!”

“Impressively, in my opinion.”

The video plays, much to my dismay.

 _“Hey guys!”_ calls a  _very_ feminine voice that surely isn’t my own. And  _oh my fucking god,_ I’m wearing make-up, pigtails, a necklace - who’s idea was this?

“Oh my god, please turn it off!” I scream, trying to jump into Dan’s lap to click it off myself - damn, this stupid handcuff.

Dan laughs to himself, but complies, shutting the video off. “What do you think?”

“You’re a monster.” He giggles, knowing I’m joking.

It’s the eighth of December. It’s been a couple of days since Peej has returned home, and I haven’t heard from him since. Me and Dan are trying to make up for lost time, but I have an irritating itch-like feeling that we’re trapped in time again. It doesn’t feel like we’re going anywhere. I think Dan has reached another impasse with me, which would explain the restraint: he doesn’t trust me yet. I don’t want to upset him, or offend him, of course not, but I really wish we could solve this. Right now, like it’s felt for a while, every moment feels like just another moment, like time isn’t quite progressing, and it’s unbearable. I just want to move on with him - I desire a life outside of these walls.

I try to hint to Dan that I want him to remove the restraint, but I don’t think it’s going to work.

“I wish we could have dinner downstairs,” I might suggest to him. “At the table.” Dan will just hum and agree with me, but that will be it.

“I hope it snows,” I sigh, staring out the window before me at the heavy rainfall. “I’d love to go out in it. We could make snow angels, or snowmen.” Dan says that he’d love that too. But I don’t think he’d take me out if it did.

I try to be more direct. “Do you think we could have dinner out tonight?” Dan shakes his head: too expensive, he’ll say, or he’ll claim there’s nothing good around - there’s always some excuse. I’m dying to call him out on his lies, but I should know better by now. He’s denying me for a reason, no matter how unsubstantiated in reality, because inside his own mind he isn’t sure of something.

My dreams start to turn horrid again. At first, I had just dismissed the first nightmare, accusing it of being a one-off, an anxiety. But it’s been harder to wave away since they kept coming.

The first was Sunday night - the first night after Peej had returned home - when I dreamt that this new situation with Dan was just another trap.

The second is Monday night. I dream that Dan has gone, one morning, whilst I’m still chained here to the bed. I wait for him to come back. It drags on, that silence, that suspension, desperation. I grow painfully lonely. I beg for him to come back, hoping his cameras are still on. I grow horribly hungry. I fall to sleep after a few days - no, not to sleep, the darkness consumes me, I feel myself fall heavily into it. I wake with a start that morning, with the newfound fear of dying here, alone, with Dan watching me through his cameras.

In Tuesday night’s dream, I become so desperate to break myself free that whilst Dan is out running an errand, I steal his knife and saw through my wrist, screaming into the empty room, blood flooding down my body. I jump awake before I could snap my hand fully off. I’m relieved to be able to run my fingers through Dan’s hair with ease on Wednesday.

These dreams make me uneasy - especially around Dan. And I know it’s stupid, because he isn’t a threat anymore. But I can’t block it out. I can’t falsify any such worries, because it’s all happened before.

_Suddenly he grabs my hair and is dragging me off the bed, causing me to scream as my bare feet harshly scuff the carpet. He drags me out with me screaming his name._

_“SHUT UP!” he yells, slamming my chest into something hard._

_“Is this what you want me to do?” I shake my head quickly, feeling the blade brush tauntingly across my vulnerable flesh. “I’ll do it, if I have to. I’ll hurt you when I need to.”_

_The knife slashes through my flesh and I scream out in pain, my cries muffled by the tape. I see my blood start to drip slowly to the floor. I can’t shut my eyes this time. I’m stuck staring in horror. He said he’d never hurt me._

_“I lied, Phil,” Dan admits with a hint of giddiness in his voice. “About your blood before. I really am that psychotic.” He turns my wrist upwards and leans down, pressing his tongue flat against the stingy cut and licking up my blood._

_Still without a word, his hands wrap round my throat and start to squeeze, and straight away I feel my windpipe lock shut._

_My heart pounds terrified against my ribcage as if screaming to be let go, and my lungs do the same._

_“D-an - !” I choke out, my trembling hands grasping his shirt like a lifeline. My veins seems to swell - my heartbeat seems to make my entire body pulse like a balloon, like I’ll burst if Dan doesn’t stop. I feel my face turning horribly red. My eyes start to ache. I need to breathe! “St-op - !”_

_He pulls the knife across my skin and I scream out helplessly as pain crashes through my nerves. But he doesn’t stop - he keeps cutting, sawing my ankle, and I continue to yell, crying for him to stop, terrified he’ll hit bone. I feel blood gushing out of me. I’m already nauseous._

I shake my head, groaning, wanting to throw the thoughts away. I roll onto my side and curl up, starting to feel sick. I wish none of those things had happened. But I can’t change anything - what Dan has done with always stay with me, and I can’t ever forget it.

My hands curl into fists and I squeeze my eyes tightly shut. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I wish I wasn’t scared of him anymore. I wish there was never a reason to be.

The bed moves slightly, so I open my eyes, wondering what on earth Dan could be doing now. He lays himself down on the bed right in front of me, with a cute little grin on his face, as he burrows his head under my arm (I’m laying on my right side, so my left arm is arched just above the mattress in front of me). The sight of him doing that, so childishly, yet so adorably, makes me smile helplessly. Dan can’t quite fit himself through, and as he almost makes it, his face comes into contact with mine, and for an awkward moment, we’re kissing. I pull back and let out a giggle. He can really be stupid sometimes.

“Whoops,” Dan sings, finally making himself comfortable without pressing himself against my face. “So what are you so sad about?”

I can’t help but stare at him whilst he’s here, in front of me, gazing at me with those heavy love-filled concern-filled eyes. It makes me want to keep smiling. He’s too damn cute to hurt me. What have I been so worried about? He was different back then - panicked, like he told me. There’s no incentive for him to hurt me now. Actually, realistically, I can’t see a single potential for violence in him anymore.

I relax with him so close to me. “Nothing,” I mumble, meaning it. My arm falls comfortably limp around his head. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

Dan smiles too. Then his eyes grow distant for a moment - I can tell that he’s thinking very deeply.

“Hey,” he asks, leading into something. “Do you really want to spend your life with me?”

There’s hope in his eyes - I can see that clearly - but also a hint of worry. It looks too familiar. “Of course I do,” I tell him, encouraging him closer. “I’m happy with you.”

That makes him smile wider. Dan certainly likes it when I like him back. “Do you really think we’ll do it?”

I firmly nod my head. “I think we can.”

“Then… You think we’ll get married?”

I pause. Then I laugh to myself. “Married? Dan, that’s not even possible!”

He pulls back from me slightly. “It might be some day! Why are you laughing?” I try to shut myself up: I hadn’t meant to, but I didn’t realise Dan was so serious about this. “Haven’t you thought that far?”

“Well… honestly, no.” Dan’s face falls in disappointment. “How was I supposed to? I wanted to escape you until recently. I’m still disoriented, Dan.” He grows even sadder. So I bring my hand up and interlink my fingers with his own. “Just because I haven’t thought that far doesn’t mean I don’t want it to happen. I just can’t see it happening just yet. What I can see, for the both of us, is very short-sighted, and it gets blurry very quickly. Not having a plan doesn’t mean I think we’re going to end soon.” I squeeze his hand tightly. “I don’t want us to.”

Very slightly, even if I’m making it up like an illusion, I see Dan gain a little bit of happiness.

“It feels a bit weird…” He whines quietly, looking away from me. “I’ve imagined so much between us. I’ve really imagined us living out the rest of our lives together. But you haven’t. And it makes me feel… Fanatical.”

“Dan…” I try to soothe him. “Don’t say that. How many times have your fantasies turned out to be true?” He starts to blush a little. So I squeeze his hand encouragingly. “Just give me time. Okay?”

Luckily, Dan starts to smile again, and grants me a small nod in agreement. Success. I can’t stand it when he’s upset.

That night - Wednesday night - I feel a greater sense of calm than I’ve ever had before, with Dan. The room doesn’t feel stifling, or filled with darkness or bad memories. I don’t feel scared anymore. With Dan, the room doesn’t feel worryingly cold. Next to him, I feel warmth, and it calms me. With him, I feel comfort. And I like to embrace it.

We lay, as usual, facing each other, with his head laying inside the frame of my left arm, and my right hand settled on his cheek. Dan isn’t tired - he never is at night. Sometimes I think he really just wants to cuddle with me. I don’t object, and I certainly don’t judge him for it, because I feel exactly the same.

I ring his hair between my fingers, making a subtle blush rise on his cheeks. “Can I kiss you?” I ask, not as shyly as I used to. There’s no reason for me to feel ashamed of such desires anymore. Dan simply, wordlessly, shows me an appreciative smile. There’s a hint of pride in it. I like being good for him.

I curl my fingers softly round his head, settling on the back of his neck, and bring him closer, until our lips are touching. Dan kisses me happily, like he always has, and I reciprocate. I feel his hands reach up and brush along my chest - a hint to me that he’s asking for more, as a suggestion, only if I want it. We haven’t done anything like that since the car. We hadn’t drank that much - I can still remember it very well. I find myself wanting it too, so I strengthen my hold, swiping my tongue against his lips to ask for entrance, which Dan eagerly provides me with. I find my fingers slipping into his hair, trying to pull him even closer, trying to hold on. Dan’s hands push themselves beneath my shirt and play up my bare chest, making me shiver.

I don’t know why I shiver like that. I haven’t felt so exposed and sensitive in a long time.

Unlike myself, I let out a little whine - I’m far too affected by Dan’s touch today. He gives my chest a little push to encourage me onto my back, and then he’s climbing on top of me. He pulls our mouths away.

“I’ve missed this,” he gasps out. I can’t see his face very well in this darkness - he turns the bedside lamp off once we’re settled in bed.

He doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he leans down, I think he’s going for my chest, but then his lips press against my neck, and I can’t help but keen quietly. His hands reach for mine, interlocking our fingers, and he holds them against the pillow. I turn my head to the side and let out a high-pitched sigh.

I usually let out lower noises than that.

I open my eyes, staring at my wrist, now unable to ignore the prominence of the handcuffs that still chain it to the bed. No, rephrase - that chains  _me_ to the bed. Dan won’t let me go from here. He’s keeping me here. I hate how familiar this feels.

I try to twist my wrist, wanting some freedom. But Dan presses down harder. He really doesn’t want me to move.

My stomach starts to twist up and I try moving myself away from Dan’s touch.

“Dan…” I whine. He ignores me, still kissing at my neck - now kissing at my collar. “Dan, please, wait.”

He draws away. “But you started this,” he pouts. “You wanted this.” Then he looks at me with worry - at least, that’s what I make out in the dark. “Are you okay?”

I feel tears starting to well in my eyes. “This doesn't… This doesn’t feel right…” I shake my head, hoping that might rid me of these discomforts. “Please, I’m begging you - take this thing off! I can’t stand it anymore!”

Dan lets out a sigh - an irritated one at that, I can tell - and climbs off of me again.

He’s not going to do it. I can tell just from that.

“Dan, please! I just want you to trust me. Why can’t you trust me?”

He falls back over me - just his top half, he’s standing off the bed now - and pins my wrists down against the bed like before. “Why do you expect so much of me? What reason is there for me to trust you? You even said yourself that you’ve wanted to get away from me all this time - how can I trust that that has suddenly changed?”

I can’t believe we don’t see the irony in this.

“Because  _we’ve_ changed, Dan!” I cry back. “You and me, as a couple, we’re different than we used to be. Can’t you see that? You used to hurt me. I used to hate you. We’re not like that anymore.”

Something clicks then, in my head - a distant memory.

“I’ll prove it!” I yell, desperate. “Let me prove to you that you can trust me. I know, even if I run, that you can find me. So if I do, you can punish me. You can…” I pause, thinking. I glance at Dan whilst I can, to gauge his reaction - he seems intrigued. “I’ll let you use a knife on me. Whether you want to carve me, hurt me, or take my blood, you can do it.  _If_ I run. Does that seem fair?”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Please,” I beg. “Just give me a chance. I want to overcome this barrier. Without this, we’ll never be normal.”

Dan still keeps quiet. I wonder if he’s thinking. I can’t see him very well.

“No,” he answer firmly. It makes my heart sink. “Trust should be deeper than you  _maybe_ running off. I can’t just trust you like that. You have to trust me first.”

He leans down. That old fear starts creeping up inside me again, and I don’t like it.

“Let me do it, now. Let me use my knife on you. Then I’ll take this off.” He rattles the cuff. “Don’t think that I want to hurt you - I just want to know that you trust me.”

My breath trembles as I expel it. “Okay,” I answer, nervously. “If this will fix us.”

Dan shows me a smile then - it isn’t scary, like it used to be when I was in a situation like this, when I used to feel like this. He’s still smiling with kindness and love. It comforts me, even in this situation. I wish I’d had that comfort before.

Dan reaches his hands to the handcuffs and unlocks them with two satisfying  _clicks_ , and I feel a heaviness wash out of me in relief. Then he leans back from the bed and encourages me to stand, so, slowly, I do, because I haven’t moved from this point in days. As Dan walks me to the bathroom, I gently ring my fingers round my left wrist, trying to dull the ache from its previous restraint.

“Take off your clothes,” he instructs me, so I start to comply. “And sit down in the shower.”

Dan leaves the room for a minute but returns quickly - he was retrieving the knife. The sight makes my stomach churn.

He takes off his clothes as well, leaving us in our underwear (which I’m slightly grateful for - I’d rather he use the knife elsewhere) and he steps into the shower with me, closes the door, and kneels down before me. I try not to gulp with fear.

“Don’t look so scared,” Dan tries to reassure me. “This isn’t a punishment. I don’t want to hurt you. Nothing here is happening against your will.” He may say that, but I think Dan’s perception of consent is slightly blurred - submission and want are very different things. But he is right, in a way: I agreed to this. Partly, I want this. Just like our first time.

Don’t think about that now.

He leans over me, placing his knee into the space between my legs, and encouraging me to lean back. Dan brings his hand - his right, empty hand - to my face and gently caresses my cheek. I assume this is an attempt to soothe me.

“Trust me,” he says with a soft voice. “That’s all you have to do.”

I nod with him, wanting to get this over with. I hate that feeling - I want time with Dan to be a luxury, not undesirable. That’s why we have to do this. If Dan can’t trust me, then I can never shake the feeling of being in captivity.

I don’t want that word to be familiar anymore.

Dan reaches his hand round to the back of my head and he carefully encourages me to lay down on the floor of the shower. I can guess why he’s chosen this place, rather than the bed - you can’t wash the blood away so easily. The thought makes me shiver in discomfort.

He leans over me properly and very gently kisses me, definitely wanting to keep me calm. I take to that, indulge myself in it, happy to remind myself that Dan doesn’t want to hurt me.

“Can I… Can we…?” He tries to ask, shyly. “I want to make this easier.”

I nod to his suggestion, knowing what he means. It means stalling, postponing it for just a little longer, distracting ourselves. Of course I agree to it.

We don’t take too long this time. The conditions aren’t the same as before: we’re not nervous about it, we’re not tipsy, it doesn’t feel forced. We just want to be happy. Dan lets me prepare him, sitting in my lap, and as I do he lets out these cute little whimpers and his hips start to sway, and it makes me want him.

As he lowers himself onto me, I let out a gasp, as I try stifling a moan. I can never get over how good that first contact feels. My hands lay on his hips, as though in a false sense of control, as Dan rocks himself on top of me. He keeps his back up and arched ever so slightly, his mouth opened helplessly in a slight loss of control. The sight of him, like that, in front of me,  _for_ me, makes my head spin. It makes my fingers press into his flesh, wanting pride and territory, wanting to please him.

Dan grasps my wrist and pins my left arm strongly against the shower floor. I’ve barely registered what he’s doing until it’s too late - the knife is in his hand and he slashes my flesh open, causing me to cry out in pain. Then he raises it to his face and lets his tongue play with it, lapping up my blood, making the wound sting.

But it’s hard to care - Dan has never looked this hot.

As he holds my wrist to his mouth, his lips are parted wide, and his body is shivering with intensity, causing these sweet moans to push out from his throat into the air around us. His back is arching slightly, then it’s inverting, curving inwards, as a great shiver shakes through his whole body, and he cries out. At the sight, I feel winded. So this is the kind of pleasure that my blood brings him? How strangely enticing.

“Dan…” I moan, helplessly. I clutch his hip firmly, wanting him even more than before. “Shit.”

Dan rides me well. He works us both to our climaxes, his nails digging into my skin, and mine grounding themselves in his. Then, with a big satisfied sigh, he lets my wrist go, letting any final drips fall onto the shower floor. For a moment, Dan lays on top of me, and I wrap my arms around him, needing to catch our breath.

“Thank you…” he breathes out, sounding happy. “But I’m not quite done.” I feel a little disappointed at that. I don’t think I have the energy for anything more. “There’s something more I want us to do.”

Dan climbs off of me slowly, lethargically, because he surely must be just as tired. He reaches up and turns the shower on - ah, this is part where we let the blood run, I suppose? Or is this just a clean-up?

He picks up the knife and leans over me again, settling himself between my legs comfortably. When he begins to press them apart slightly, I lift my head up, getting anxious. Dan then places his hand on my chest and encourages me back down, shushing me softly.

“It’s alright,” he reassures me. He certainly doesn’t like me being scared of him anymore. “This won’t take long.”

I decide not to complain - if this is it, to gain Dan’s trust, why would I complain? - so I relax back down on the floor of the shower.

He presses the tip of the knife into the flesh of my thigh - my right one, the unharmed one - and, like before, he starts to carve, like he’s drawing something with long curls. This design isn’t as deep as the last one. Maybe he only wants it to be temporary.

“I want this to be meaningful,” Dan tells me, humming gracefully as he works. “This isn’t about your blood, or my knife, or your pain. This is a symbol between us. Because we trust each other.”

Shyly, and tiredly, I dare to raise my head again to steal a glance at him. He has his sweet little smile on his face. But I don’t think it’s because of the blade, because he’s looking at me.

The he looks back down at his work.

“Done,” he calls, partly to my relief. I didn’t complain at all during that. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings like that. Dan now sits himself back. I think this might be it. “Have a look,” he asks of me, still beaming with that smile. So I do: it’s a symbol I don’t recognise. It does look quite pretty though. “It’s a Japanese symbol.” I look back at him. Had he memorised this? “Well, just the outline of it. I wouldn’t dare to fill it in.” He gives a little chuckle at that - really, that’s his humour? Interesting. “It means eternity.” I show him a smile. “Because we’ll be together forever.”

“That’s sweet,” I praise him. It makes Dan blush.

“Can I ask one more thing of you, though?” he asks shyly. I worry, but agree nonetheless. So Dan leans back and carefully presents to me his own thigh, the mirror of mine.

He has the same marking, that very same symbol. He did this himself? When?

I look back up at his face to see him smiling proudly.

“I want you to deepen it,” he tells me, handing me the knife. My fingers go cold at its touch. I’ve never held a proper knife before. “Show me that I can trust you. Show me that you want this to be eternal.”

My hand begins to shake. But I comply. I’m terrified of hurting him, of slipping up, of ruining his artwork - a cherished symbol - and of pressing too deep. I wonder if Dan has any of these fears with me.

I bring the knife to his thigh and carefully do as he says, slotting the tip into the initial incisions and gently cutting a little further. As I work, a brief string of whimpers start to leave Dan’s mouth, and it makes me want to cry.

“Keep going,” Dan encourages, picking up on my reluctance. “I promise I’m okay. I want this.”

I take his word, trying to lessen the pressure.

Once I’m done, Dan places his hand under my chin and lifts my head up, showing me a proud and very grateful smile. At this point, I feel exhausted. I just want to go back to sleep.

“You’re so good for me,” Dan mutters, letting his other hand thread through my hair. “I always knew I could trust you.”

He carefully takes the knife from my hand, both his hand falling away from me. I hear him hiss, and then he’s holding my jaw again, raising my head slightly higher.

“Open your mouth,” he calls. So I oblige, parting my lips.

Dan brings his right arm to my face, holding his wrist just above my mouth, and I see the gash that now lies in it. The blood starts to bead quickly, and it drips onto my tongue. I don’t even need any instruction: I wait for enough, then I close my mouth, swishing it around with my tongue, before swallowing it down. I shiver at the taste. It’s certainly warm, comfortingly so, like hot chocolate on a cold day. It tastes strangely sweet, but with a metallic aftertaste.

I think Dan told me about some psychological theory that your physiology or DNA should complement an ideal partner - like a soulmate. It was something about the mind tricking you into finding that person pleasing in almost strange regards, like their smell. I wonder if the taste of their blood is like that.

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: mentions of captivity/violence/drugging, strong language**

I groan as I wake, bringing a hand to my face and rubbing my eyes sleepily. Ah, my head is pounding. It hasn’t done that in a long time, not since Dan stopped drugging me. The bed feels strangely cold this morning. I roll myself over, glad to find my left wrist still free from its previous restraint. Yuck - why is the bed so wet?

The wind blows over my face. I open my eyes.

The sky? I’m outside?

I push myself up and take in my surroundings: trees, grass, an almost blue skyline, a hell of a lot of trees actually, and a play area? I don’t recognise this place. This can’t be near home.

My head starts to swim, pushing myself up too quickly, and I groan in distress, pressing my palm against my temple to try calming it down.

I don’t understand. Why aren’t I at home, with Dan? Why am I here?

Ah, I remember:

_We lay down after all that, too tired to drag ourselves into bed. I don’t mind it - it’s kind of sweet, staying here together, snuggling. It’s spontaneous._

_“I’m so proud of you,” Dan whispers to me, almost pressing his lips against my ear. He like being this close to me, and I like letting him now. “I always have trusted you, you know? Deep down I always do. I just get a bit anxious sometimes. But you know how much I want to get past these things, with you, just like you want.”_

_I nod to that, agreeing wholeheartedly with him._

_Dan pulls me closer, embracing me, and I enjoy it._

_“I love you,” he whispers._

_That awkward emptiness grows again, the silent vacuum that expects a response. But I stay silent, because I won’t lie to him - we’ve gotten this far, past his expectations, so he can’t be expect too much from me so soon._

_Dan stiffens at my silence. Oh dear - now I’ve upset him._

_“Won’t you say it back?” he whines. “I’ve waited so long to hear it. Why don’t you ever say it?”_

_I draw my head away from him, so I can look him in the eye. He doesn’t look angry - it’s that damn disappointment again, it always gets to me. “I’m sorry,” I whisper back. “I really like you. I’m not lying about that, you know it’s true. But I still need some time.”_

_Then he surprises me: his face scrunches into a frown, and anger appears again. I haven’t seen this in a while._

_“You’ve had so much time! I’ve been waiting ages for you to love me. Why aren’t you there yet?”_

_I push myself up onto my knees, knowing this isn’t going to calm down anytime soon. “Dan, it’s been like two months - ”_

_“It’s been_ six  _months!” Dan spits back, infuriated. “And I’ve waited longer than that - it’s been three years for me!” Then he sighs - more of an irritated growl than a simple sigh, and he pushes himself up onto his feet. “Why are you so fucking selfish all the time?”_

_“Dan - ” I reach out to him, but he steps away. “Don’t get mad with me!” I switch, snapping. “I’m trying, okay? We’ve come a long way.”_

_“I don’t care how far we’ve come!” He yells back, swinging the shower door violently open and making it crash against the glass of the shower wall. “I care about the end goal! I can’t be satisfied until I know for certain that you love me and you won’t ever leave!”_

_He punches the glass then, and I flinch horridly at the contact. Shit. He’s really mad._

_But he seems to deflate, dropping his head to his chest, and he lets out a big disappointed sigh._

_“I’m too tired,” he sighs. Silence stretches between us. I don’t dare say anything. That’s the one thing I’ve forgotten these last few days: Dan is always in charge. “Maybe I should stop trying to tire myself out like this. I’m running an endless road.” Then he shoots me a glare - anger is certainly there, but disappointment too. “All you’ve done is play me.”_

_I reach out to him. “Dan, no - ”_

_“Save it,” he shoots back. Reluctantly, I shut my mouth._

_Dan turns around, ducks into a small drawer, and turns back to me. At the sight of what he’s retrieved, I sink into myself, an old feeling returning._

_“Please,” I beg, but I don’t move. “You don’t need to do this anymore.”_

_Dan looks at me sternly, but also sadly. Damn that disappointment._

_“I can’t do_ this  _anymore.” He walks back over and kneels down over me. I try leaning away. “I’m sorry. But I’m calling this off. I’m going home now.” I start to cry. “It’s been fun.”_

 _“You give up too quickly,” I cry, desperate to keep him here. I reach both my hands to him and grab onto his neck. “_ Please _give me time.”_

_Dan just covers my mouth with that cloth without a word, and I black out._

So now I’m here: outside, in the cold, alone.

With me seems to be a bag - it looks like Dan’s backpack. I open it: there are clothes, a hoodie, an umbrella, some snacks and some money. I don’t know how long I’m expected to be out here. Is Dan going to come back for me? What am I expected to do?

There’s a note inside the bag, written with Dan’s handwriting:

“ _I bought you train tickets - ”_ I see them, they’re inside.  _“ - Go and see Peej. Give me time to clear up your house.”_

That’s all it says.

I push myself up onto my feet and sling the bag over my shoulder, starting to walk. I think I can guess where I am then. There’s a path, through the trees, so I decide to take it, not really knowing where it will take me.

Even now, it feels strange, being outside. The air feels clear and thin. It’s almost too thin, too dry, and feels like a struggle to breathe. Or maybe it’s because I stopped taking my pills. Maybe I’m panicking. I don’t like this. I want to go home.

A loud noise crashes through the air and a huge gush of wind rushes past me, making the trees sway. I shoot my eyes over to the right and see a train rushing past. So I was right: Dan left me by the train station.

But how can I go? How can I leave, at a time like this? Right when I finally want Dan with me, when I finally start developing feelings for him, he calls it all off? It doesn’t feel right.

I wonder if I’m losing my mind.

I secure the straps of the backpack on both of my shoulders and start walking down the path, towards the station. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea, but I guess I’ve made up my mind. Just outside the station, there is a large and very worn-down map of the city, and I search it for any clue of where I am. There aren’t any street names that I can make out - they’re either printed too small or washed away by the rain - but I think I can work out where city centre is, or at least some significant buildings. I almost scream out at when I see it all: Dan left me at the station furthest away from anything!

Maybe this is a sign. Not from the universe, exactly, but from Dan. Maybe he wants me to stay away.

Well it’s not like I particularly want to see him either, not after the latest stunt he pulled with me. But I’m not leaving us like this.

So I turn on my heels, hoping I can follow this road into the centre, and I start to walk.

I wonder, as I go, how long this is going to take me. Usually if I’m going into the city then I take the bus or drive, but it probably won’t take too long to walk. Maybe, hopefully, less than an hour? I look down at my shoes: practically plimsoles. This walk is going to hurt.

If I get lost, then I’m screwed. I could die out here. I wish I had my phone.

What if Dan isn’t even home by the time I get there? What if he’s already packed up and gone home? What if I can’t get inside? Do I have a key in this bag? Will he have left one outside? God, I hate thinking too much. I wish I could listen to music or something now - even an audiobook would be better than this silence.

I stop after what feels like an hour for some snacks, because my stomach is rumbling like mad already. Surely that’s wrong - it can’t have been an hour, I’ve hardly gotten close! But at the same time, I feel like I’ve walked miles.

I wish Dan was with me. Or Peej. Could I bear to talk to Peej right now, knowing that he would interrogate me like he did before? I don’t even know how he’s getting on. Maybe he’s worrying about me. Maybe I need to stop thinking that other people’s lives revolve around mine.

 _“You’re really sad, do you know that?”_ Dan tells me. He’s smiling - he isn’t mad anymore. I can’t see him, but I know that he is. I hope that he is, at least.  _“You know full well that I don’t want to see you right now. I sent you away. Can’t you take a hint?”_

 _I know,_ I think back.  _But what else am I supposed to do?_

 _“Go and see Peej,”_ he shoots back, practically scoffing.  _“Take the train like I asked you to. How did that not seem like an option to you?”_

I wish he wouldn’t be so scrutinising. I wonder if Dan thinks I’m stupid, that I’m beneath him. He’s always been trying to trick me. And not just trying - he’s succeeded.

 _“Why do you want to see me so badly anyway?”_ Dan asks curiously.  _“I scare you. I hurt you. You’ve never wanted to be near me before. So why go back now, when you’re finally_ supposed  _to go free?”_

I sigh to myself, continuing the walk.  _Because_ , I answer,  _you’re the first constant I’ve really known in a while. With you, even imprisoned, I had a path and a future, and everything had a purpose. Without you, I don’t know… I feel lost._

 _“Just because I give you purpose, doesn’t mean that’s good for you.”_ This doesn’t sound like Dan, but of course, it isn’t him - it’s just my thoughts.  _“Are you meant to be happy when someone decides your future, say, that you’re going to die? Don’t you want any choice?”_

 _That’s not the same thing,_  I answer back.  _I don’t trust myself to provide a better future than you’re going to give me. Why should I try and break away from that?_

Dan stays silent for a while. I keep on walking, hoping he might say something soon, even if it’s very little.

 _“I think that’s worse, you know,”_ he criticises me.  _“I could understand if safety was your reasoning. But a lack of motivation and self-direction? That’s just selfish. You’re giving up because I have enough answers for you. Do you really think a guy like me is going to care so much about you selflessly that I’d be so self-sacrificing? If anything, learning of your true selfishness will probably drive me away.”_

Surely that’s not true. It can’t be - nothing can drive Dan away from me.

 _“I am human, Phil,”_ he scoffs. Now he certainly is upset with me. That’s a strange concept, actually - my own mind is mad with itself.  _“I may be obsessive, but I’m not blind. If I leave you, what would you do then?”_

I don’t answer him. I had never thought about that before. It just… it’s never seemed like a possibility, not even a shred.

 _“I think it would ruin you,”_ Dan continues.  _“You rely so greatly on me. Don’t you know that? You only care about me in the first place because I think so highly of you. So if that illusion were to shatter… What would be left of you?”_

 _Shut up,_ I groan, wishing he hadn’t started talking. I wish the  _real_ Dan were here, not this fake pretend one. Dan would argue with me like this - he would be falling over trying to cling onto me, desperate to hold my hand, and kiss me. He would be trying to make me happy. And I  _would_ be happy with him, of course I would.

That’s why I have to see him. I like him, and I want to be with him, and I know he feels the same. So I have to convince him of it. I have to fight for it.

Suddenly I buckle over, my ankle feeling like it’s snapped, and I cry out in pain. My body falls to the floor and my ankle continues to throb.

“What the…?” I sob, leaning over to inspect it. I push my trousers up -

Shit. The scar. I’m bleeding through the bandage.

It won’t stop pulsing, like I’ve just broken it. It hurts like hell.

“Fuck,” I hiss. I start to rummage through my bag, trying to find some first-aid materials - more bandages, plasters, paracetamol. But I find nothing. I guess Dan never expected this situation to occur. How am I going to get home now, with an injury like this? I’ve only just made it into town!

Decidedly, I heave myself back onto my feet and assess the difficulty: swaying back and forth on my legs, and side to side, applying varying pressures and weight onto my bleeding ankle. With each tougher extent I find my ankle buckling and shooting with pain, and I have to yell out.

“Fucking…” I start, then I just sigh, deflating. There’s no point complaining. I’m stuck with this now. I just have to keep going.

So, with as much care as I can, I take baby steps along the path, hoping the rest of the walk won’t take too long.

 _“Don’t you wonder,”_ Dan says, returning in my silence,  _“if I really want to see you?”_

I almost scoff at the suggestion. “Why wouldn’t you? I’m your world.”

_“But I kicked you out.”_

“Yeah - because I upset you. But I’m coming back. I’m proving myself you.”

For a moment, Dan keeps quiet.  _“You have a weird habit of that,”_ he comments, but when I think about it, that habit isn’t mine at all.  _“What exactly do you think you’re proving?”_

I consider that well. I might as well take my time - since I can’t walk any faster, I have ages to entertain myself. “I’m proving that I want to see you; that I like you; and that I want to spend time with you.”

Now it’s Dan’s turn to think about that.  _“You should know that won’t be enough,”_ he, to my dismay, argues back. I sigh in frustration because he’s right.  _“I want to hear you say that you love me. That’s all I care about now. If you can’t say that, then what’s the point in coming back to me? I’ll just send you out into the cold again.”_

“Then I’ll promise. I’ll promise that I can love you, that I will, that I’m trying.” My hands clench into fists without me realising. “Surely that will be enough.”

Dan just sighs.  _“Stop trying to trick yourself. You know that won’t work - you’ve tried it before.”_  Fuck, he’s right.  _“So what are you going to do? Lie? Sugar-coat me like you planned to in the start?”_

A woman on the other side of road, walking by, looks at me strangely, and I realise that I’ve been talking out loud this whole time. I duck my head down and keep walking.

 _“You have a choice now, Phil,”_ Dan continues _,_  his voice switching to a whisper as though he worries that others will hear him, but getting louder, making sure that I’m listening.  _“You can’t just knock and beg me to take you back. You either have to give up, and go see Peej; or you have to tell me that you love me, even if it isn’t true.”_

I consider those words very deeply. Dan has a point: there’s a very slim chance that he’ll take me back on my begging alone. But could I lie? What if I never love him? What if he finds out that I lied? He hates it when I lie. But, then again, what if he believes me? What possible damage could there be if he thinks that I love him? He’ll love me more? He’ll get more affectionate? Maybe he’ll take me out more, and show me off? How bad could all that be?

But if he knows that I’m lying, how badly will he punish me?

My hand reaches to the stab wound in my belly, suddenly starting to feel sick.

At least, if he doesn’t want me, I could always trap him here - I think that with a little chuckle.

 _Finally!_ I’ve reached my street! What a relief it is to see!

I hobble a little faster, desperate to get to the door. The sun is going down and the air around me is starting to freeze, so I don’t want to be trapped out here for long, not now that I won’t be able to get the train if this blows up.

I take one step onto my drive and my ankle gives out, and I collapse to the floor. It isn’t just the injury this time - it’s exhaustion as well, and I struggle to get up again. No - I have to keep going! I force myself to crawl across the concrete of the drive and all the way up to door, collapsing on the doorstep and letting out a long sigh in tired relief.

I did it. I’m finally home.

Exhausted, I raise my hand and knock heavily on the door.

I wait.

I knock again.

Silence.

I look through the windows from where I can - all the lights are off. I can’t even see his car anywhere.

Fuck. No, he can’t be gone. After everything I’ve done, all the pain, and deliberation!

“Dan!” I yell. I knock even louder. “Dan, let me in!” Still no response. My ankle is throbbing relentlessly, worse than it’s ever been. I can feel the blood leaving me in small waves. “Please! I want to come home!”

My energy leaves me as the sun starts to set. My arms falls down to the cold, concrete floor.

I start to cry.

“Please…” I sob. “Don’t leave me out here.”

I pull the hoodie out of my bag and put it on, reluctantly preparing myself for a freezing cold night.

When I wake up, I find my body shivering but no longer cold - like a soft, warm blanket has been laid over me. The air around me is fairly quiet, but there are a few faint noises, though nothing like the roaring of cars down the street. The wind doesn’t forcefully push against me anymore. In fact, now, I feel happy.

I carefully open my eyes. I look down to see someone, their head down, pushing my trousers up and gently wrapping a bandage around my opened wound. I don’t say anything as they do - they’re taking care of me. Once they’ve tied it up, they reach their head down and softly lay a soothing kiss on the bandage, and the action makes me blush.

“Dan…” I whine, my voice and body equally exhausted after yesterday.

He shoots his head up to me and a wide, pleasant smile crowds his face.

Then he’s pulling me into him, my head forced tightly against his chest as his arms wrap around me and hold me close. For a moment, I find myself unable to move.

“You don’t know how happy you’ve made me,” Dan gasps out. Even his body is shaking. He grips me tighter. “You came back for me. You really do want me.”

Suddenly, in this situation, I find myself feeling overwhelmed, and tears start to fall onto my cheeks. I reach my hands out and around Dan’s body and hug him closer, holding myself against him, embracing his warmth eagerly. I’m so glad that I’m home.

 


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, smut (blowjob, handjob, d/s dynamics)**

Dan lays me down on a sofa in the living room, wanting me to rest up well, as he goes to make us both breakfast. He keeps the blanket on me, so I pull it up comfortably over myself - my shivers and trembles haven’t quite gone away yet after that chilly night outside.

Still, I’m just glad Dan has taken me back in. I felt certain last night that he was going to leave me there. I wonder where he was - did he just come back this morning, and see me lying on the doorstep? Perhaps his empathy kicked in at that moment. Or maybe it’s like what he said: he realised how true my devotion is. Maybe I don’t need to tell him that I love him, after all. Maybe he already thinks that I do.

He comes back and lays the plate of pancakes in my lap, so I shuffle myself up and start to dig in. My body practically shivers at the taste - I’ve really missed this kindness of his.

“Are you feeling better now?” Dan asks as I eat, soothingly threading his fingers through my hair. Confidently, I nod my head, which makes him smile. “I’m glad. It must have been freezing out there last night in nothing but a hoodie. You must have been desperate to see me, staying out there like that.”

I don’t tell him that it’s not like I had anywhere else to go. I’m in his favour now. He’s taken me back without me having to lie. So I’m not going to blow this again.

It feels strange, though: Dan got upset with me, but he didn’t cause me any pain for it. He just gave up. What does that mean for us now? We have been doing this for over a month now. I suppose the thrill of this concept with me has run out.

I wonder: does that mean Dan isn’t as devoted to me anymore?

“Dan,” I whisper shyly, catching his attention. Then I’m quiet for a moment - how should I word this? “Umm… I was wondering… why are we okay now?”

Well, that will do. I can’t exactly say  _why are you fine being with me again after being so upset that I don’t love you yet?_

Dan stares at me blankly for a long stretch of time, hardly even blinking. “Because we  _are_ okay. Don’t you get it?” This time, it’s me who stares blankly at him. “You came back for me. That means you want to be with me. That says more to me that the words  _I love you_ would, because you weren’t coming back to prove something to me - you were doing it for yourself. You believe that I’m what’s best for you. Is that right?”

Strangely, I feel shy, exposed, so I avert my eyes for him. “That’s right,” I mutter back.

Dan grins at me, happy with my answer, and takes my empty plate away. “There we go then,” he hums, gently stroking my hair as he stands himself up. “Everything’s solved.”

At those words, I reach my hand out and grab Dan’s shirt tightly, not letting him leave. My fingers tremble - not from the cold, or from terror, but this time from energy that I’m not used to.

“You wanted me to come back,” I mutter, needing him to confirm him.

“Of course I did,” Dan says back, eyebrow raising. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

I ignore that. “If you wanted me to come back, why would you send me away? Was it a mistake?” I stare at him unwaveringly, desperate for an answer. “Or was it a lie?”

Dan doesn’t say anything.

“You were testing me, weren’t you? That’s all this was. If I couldn’t say that I love you, you had to know if I really did want to be with you, and I wouldn’t just run when I had the chance.” I realise what this energy is now: it’s rage. I haven’t ever felt this sort of anger before. It’s powerful. “You lied to me - again!”

Dan takes my head in his hands and leans down to my level, his face a few inches from mine. “Calm down,” he says softly. “You’re unnecessarily mad right now. I didn’t do this to hurt you. You said you wanted to prove yourself to me, so I gave you that chance - a  _proper_ chance, so you wouldn’t be distracted by the motive of proving a point to me.” Then he’s smiling again. “You should be happy right now. Can’t you just be happy for us? This means we’ve passed our barrier. We’ve achieved what you wanted.” Dan tilts his head gently, like a parent would to a child. “You have a very strange way of looking at things.”

As much as I feel like hating it, I know that Dan is right. I’m angry over something pointless. He did this for me - to make  _me_ happy and to help our relationship progress. Right now, I’m just being mad for the sake of being mad. How silly.

I sigh, letting my body expel its rage. “I’m sorry,” I mutter, dropping my hand from Dan’s shirt. “I just… I  _really_ don’t like being tricked like that.”

“But I’m not tricking you,” Dan shoots back. “It’s only a temporary misdirection. I was going to tell you everything once you were feeling better, when I knew you’d understand.” He leans his face closer to mine, his eyes brightly portraying his joy. “Let me make it up to you. Let me take you out this weekend. We’ll have a great time!”

I blink at him. Strangely, the concept of hanging out with Dan properly, almost  _normally_ , makes my heart swell. “Where?”

“Hmm…” Dan thinks. “How about London? I can book a hotel and everything.” He shows me a kind smile, begging for me to be happy. “How does that sound?”

I smile back at him. “Sounds nice.”

We spend the day packing our bags for our short trip: it doesn’t take long, there isn’t much to bring, but it is also passed lunchtime when Dan let me get up off the sofa.

We decide to leave that night, since we could only book the room for Friday, Saturday and Sunday night, and we leave quite abruptly - Dan driving - to reach the train station in time.

Once we’re seated on the train, ready for another two hour journey, Dan rests his head on my shoulder and falls peacefully asleep. There aren’t many people on this train, or at least in this carriage, so under the cloak of my coat over our laps I hold Dan’s hand in mine and gently stroke my thumb along his skin. It feels nice to do this, outside of the house. It’s like we’re a real, normal couple.

I have to wake Dan up by the time we reach London, past nine o'clock, and we walk through the surprisingly still busy streets of London to reach our hotel.

The room, once we’ve arrived and checked ourselves in, is nice - quite large, beautifully furnished, and very clean. I wonder how much it cost. Of course, Dan got us a double bed to share - when haven’t we shared?

“I think we should have a shower soon,” Dan mutters dismissively, dropping his bag on the bed and starting to unpack his things.

I hum back in approval, wondering what exactly he means. I can’t always assume that  _shower_ means some form of sex, but our sex isn’t exclusive to the bathroom.

We head to the bathroom when it’s late - around eleven o'clock - so other guests might be asleep. Dan leads me inside by my hand and helps me undress, smiling to me all the time.

“Is everything alright?” I ask him quietly, once he’s undressed and has the shower going. Dan turns his head to me and nods quickly. I step into the shower with him and slide the door closed behind me. “Are you sure? You seem different today.”

Dan doesn’t reply to that right away - instead, he moves himself in front of me and wraps his arms around my neck, holding us close. “I’m just happy,” he hums. He starts to sway, taking me with him from side to side, like he’s dancing to some unheard music. “I like that we’ve come this far.” The he’s leaning his head into my neck, sighing gently. “It means we can go further.”

Before I can ask what he means, Dan has led me to the wall and presses his lips against mine, gripping onto me tightly, and I realise that there’s no point in me asking because he’s probably about to show me. I reach my hands up along his back and pull him closer, wanting to let him know that I’m happy to see what he’s talking about.

He leads us both onto the floor of the shower, my back still against the wall with Dan between my knees. He draws his mouth away from mine and instead shuffles himself down my body, kneeling by my feet and placing his hands on my knees. As Dan looks over my bare crotch, I try not to lick my lips in anticipation.

“I used to think…” he starts mumbling, “that I would enjoy doing things to you when you’re tied up and helpless.” I suppress a gulp at that - that doesn’t sound as nice as I’d hoped. “But I realised that wasn’t really what I want. Of course, I used to enjoy those thoughts, but there was something incomplete about it - it wasn’t quite perfect. And then I figured it out: I want to please you, of course, but it isn’t you who I want to be helpless - it’s me.”

My eyes go wide at the confession. “What do you mean?” I ask timidly.

Dan finally moves his gaze back to mine, and I can really see what’s going on inside his head: the more he thinks about, the fuller his eyes seem. And right now, they’re going crazy.

“When I dreamed about sex with you, I would be fully submissive and obedient to your every command. All I wanted was to make you feel good. I wanted to behave well for you. Sometimes, I would be passive, simply letting you use me for your own pleasure. Other times, I would be like a slave, serving you as well as I could all by myself.”

Right then, his tongue slips out and runs over his lips, and I realise he’s incredibly obsessed with his concept.

“So…” I choke out. “Is that what you want us to do?”

Eagerly, Dan nods his head.

This feels strange to me. He wants a dynamic that I’m not used to with him. Dan has always been in control of what’s happened between us, in one way or another. Is he trying to swap our roles over now? Should Dan act like my prisoner?

“Please…” Dan whines, shivering slightly. It seems like he’s desperate for this. “Let me serve you. I’ll make you feel good - I promise.”

Strangely, a very familiar sensation starts to flow through me, and I bring a hand to cover my face to hide my blush. Am I… Do I really find this concept exciting?

“Okay,” I mumble back. It makes Dan smile widely.

Then he leans down between us, ducking his head down between my legs again. My heart feels like it’s pounding relentlessly in my chest.

Dan pauses, then looks up at me again.

“Could you… maybe… try ordering me around?” he suggests quietly.

“H-how should I do that?”

Dan glances away, thinking about that for a while. He looks back with an answer. “Tell me what you want me to do, specifically. It might just come to you. First,” he says suggestively, tightening his hold on my knees. “Tell me to suck you off.” I can’t help but swallow, feeling overwhelming. “Be dominant.”

I really don’t know how to do this. I hardly have any experience of sex normally, let alone this sort of thing. So how does Dan have a clue about any of this? How much has he thought about me like this?

I gulp for a final time, pushing down my awkwardness. Staring at Dan, I know I can do this, because he’s already so desperate to please me. Looking at him, this whole dynamic actually makes a lot of sense for us.

I reach my hand down from my mouth and cup Dan’s chin in my palm, holding him still with my fingers. As I tighten my grip slightly, I notice Dan bringing his bottom lip between his teeth and biting it gently, and it makes my heart throb in desire.

“Suck me off,” I blurt out, pulling him closer to my certainly half-hard cock. “Make me feel good.”

Dan doesn’t hesitate to get to work: he parts his lips and takes me into his mouth, sucking gently, and with a soft sigh I let my hand fall away. As he works me, twisting his tongue around me as well as he can, I realise that Dan has definitely gotten better at this.

“Fuck…” I moan, unable to help myself. “Have you been practising?”

He lets out a short chuckle and pulls himself off, only briefly, to answer with “A little”, then he returns to his task.

I wonder how he’s been practising. He hasn’t done this for me enough to have gotten this good. Has he, perhaps, been doing his own research?

I bring my hand to his hair and thread my fingers through, then I tighten my grip as Dan runs his tongue over my tip. “Shit…” I moan out, head tilting back against the shower wall. “You’re so good.”

I feel Dan moan at that, only for a second, as if he couldn’t suppress it in time. I cock my head at the implication. “So you like being praised?” I sing. Dan hums, in a high-pitch voice, an eager  _yes_ , which I mentally take note of.

Honestly, I’m not surprised that Dan’s life, when entwined with fantasies of me, was centred so much around sex. He is, after all, a teenager. How long has he been obsessing over me for now? A few years? I wonder how sex with me in real life compares to what he’s imagined all this time. Is it good? I hope I’m not disappointing him. Then again, if I was, that would his fault, not mine; he would’ve built me up too much.

That’s strangely flattering, really.

“Fuck…” I continue to moan, huffing breathlessly as Dan’s skilled work brings me close. “You’re doing so well,” I puff, gripping his hair tighter in my hand. “Such a good boy for me.”

Dan lets out a string of moans at my words, and his hips straight to sway helplessly, which all tells me that I’m doing this right. I never would’ve thought that this would turn Dan on so much.

He works his mouth solely on my tip - to start wrapping this up, I think - one hand at the base of my cock that strokes me quickly, and every time he lets his tongue slide across the slit my hips jerk upwards and a strong moan escapes my lips. I can feel sweat dripping down my head - or maybe that’s just water from my wet hair. Either way, Dan sure works me well.

“Wait,” I gasp out. “Just one more thing before you make me finish.” Dan’s eyes dart up to me, waiting expectantly - obediently. I feel like I could ask anything of him right now, with a look like that. “I want to see how deep you can take me.”

Dan hums approvingly at my request and forces himself further down my length, taking as much as he can, until I’m almost certain I’m nearing his throat. He swallows suddenly, making his mouth tighten around me and causing a choked gasp to leave my mouth.

“Oh  _fuck_ ,” I cry out, tightly gripping his hair. “Okay, that’s enough. You’ve impressed me.” I pull his head back up so he can resume his final work. “Now make me come.”

Dan instantly obliges, working at the head of my cock precisely, and pumping me quickly. My thighs start to tremble by his shoulders and my hips start to buck into the air with every lap of his tongue against me. Moans and pants start to fall regularly from my mouth, completely out of breath. As I hold Dan’s head in my hand, and he stares up at me curiously like he always does when he works me like this, my heart starts to pound harder than it was before: Dan is so good to me and I love it.

My orgasm rushes through me and I cry out in bliss, hips thrusting up into the heat of Dan’s throat. My fingers clench desperately at his hair and try holding him down as I come, shivering and panting, into his mouth. Dan doesn’t look fazed by that at all - in fact, it seems to excite him.

Once I start to come down, collapsing onto the wet shower floor, Dan pulls himself off me and, staring at me to ensure my attention, swallows down his mouthful, licking his lips afterwards. That sight, as always, makes my heart clench with gratitude. I never like to swallow.

“Do you enjoy swallowing?” I ask him on impulse, curious.

Dan confidently nods his head. “It tastes good,” he surprises me with. That makes my cheeks blush. I would never have expected someone to say that. Maybe it’s that DNA thing again, like sweat and blood? I wonder what else of my body Dan might find tasty?

With my hand still in Dan’s hair, I pull him closer and press our mouths together, wanting to show my gratitude through a kiss.

“How hot did you find that?” I question once I’ve pulled away, dropping my eyes to Dan’s crotch - he’s hard, almost shockingly so, especially after not being touched at all yet.

When I glance back up to him, there’s a light blush on his cheeks - shyness rather than anything else. “It was… it was better than I’d ever imagined it could be,” he admits, biting his bottom lip afterwards. “Thank you,” he mutters back, surprising me.

“Why are you thanking me? I should be thanking you - I’m the one who just got to come, aren’t I?” I grin at him, pulling him in for another short kiss. “Want me to help you out?”

“You… you don’t have to,” Dan mumbles timidly. “I don’t deserve such kindness from you.”

That, again, shocks me. “You have a very strange way of thinking, Dan.” As I talk, I lead him over to the wall where I was recently positioned and sit myself between his legs, exposing him for me. It makes Dan gulp in anticipation. “After what you’ve just done for me, so selflessly, why shouldn’t you get to enjoy yourself too?” I bring my mouth to the side of his head and bit down gently on his earlobe, making him gasp. “Think of it as my treat, then. For being such a good boy for me.”

Dan’s body shivers. He must really like this. “Phil, please…” he whines. His hips starts to rut up into the air between us, obviously desperate now. So I bring my hand down between his legs and wrap my fingers around his cock, starting to stroke him slowly. A weak string of whimpers starts to fall from his lips as I do.

“I wonder,” I smirk, teasingly kissing the side of his neck, which causes his head to fall the other way. “Are you going to last very long now? Because you’ve never been this desperate before.”

“I can't…” he cries softly. “Please, can I come soon?”

I try not to chuckle. “Already? But we’ve only just started!”

Judging by the way Dan rocks his hips up into my hand faster than I can actually stroke him, he’s probably serious.

He whines another plead, reaching his hands towards me - impulsively, I grab them, taking his wrists into my left hand and pinning them up above his head on the wall. “Stay still,” I mutter deeply, wondering where on earth that just came from. “I’m in control, aren’t I?” Whining, Dan nods his head. “Good. Then let me work you.”

This situation seems hotter than any before between us. I don’t know how, but seeing Dan like this beneath me, so wrecked, so helpless to my command, so  _mine_ , seems to stir something inside me that I haven’t felt before. It’s a strange sort of pleasure - like the kick you might get from doing something bad. It’s addictive, and I realise, watching Dan writhe under me like this, that I’ve found a new desire to do this again.

I pump my hand quickly along him, causing him to cry out. His body is trembling and I just know he’s going to go over the edge soon.

“Can I…” he whimpers. “Need… need your permission…”

Smiling, I place a gently kiss to his cheek. “Go ahead. Come for me. You’ve been so good.”

A great shiver ripples through Dan’s body as he lets himself go, and a loud moan escapes his mouth, jaw dropped, back arched. I feel him twitching as he comes over my hand, and his wrists twist helplessly in my grip. I find my mouth falling to his chest, since his arched back presents it to me so beautifully, and I sweetly kiss his glistening skin.

When he comes down, I lean my chin on the centre of his ribs and stare up at him, admiring how exhausted he now looks.

“So,” I hum, amused. “You like being restrained?”

Shyly, Dan nods his head, his wrists still wriggling in my hold.

I realise this is what I used to be looking for, long ago, when I was trying to think of how I could one day escape him - a way for him to put his trust in me and let me have some control. Now, Dan is giving himself to me in a way I’m not used to. But why do I like it so much?

I run my hand under the shower’s stream to rinse our mess off before we end our little shower session. Strangely, Dan’s legs still tremble with exhaustion, so I help him to the bedroom with his arm around my shoulders. He’s really worn out after that. It must be a psychological thing, because physically it wasn’t that much work.

“You never cease to amaze me, Howell,” I laugh once we’re tucked up in bed together. A blush rises to Dan’s cheeks and he buries his head in my chest to hide from me, which only makes me laughs more.

“I was worried you’d think I was crazy,” he mumbles, a little muffled, into my pyjama shirt.

“Don’t worry - of course I think you’re crazy,” I tease, ruffling his hair. “But it’s a good kind. This is your best kind of crazy.”

It makes sense with him now - all the times he tied me up, and treated me like some sort of submissive. It was all because those desires were in his head, all jumbled up, waiting for him to work out how to unscramble them. Maybe he won’t do that to me anymore.

 


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, this story will be updated every Monday and Friday unless a hiatus is called.

**WN: strong language, angst, smut (restraint, handjob, fingering, sex), brief implications of non-con**

On Saturday, we decide to spend the day around London.

We search the streets near our hotel for a place that serves breakfast and find one quite close, so we head inside and order what we want.

“Do you have any plans for this weekend?” I ask Dan curiously. Two days is a lot of time to spend here, especially without a plan.

Dan just smiles at me, taking a sip of his juice. “I’m not really sure,” he mumbles. “All I know is that I want to hang out with you.”

“We could have done that in Manchester, you know?!” I cry, feeling appalled. “What are we going to do then?”

Dan reaches his hands across the table - his eyes searching the room around us first - and squeezes mine gently. “Don’t stress about it, Phil. We’re going to have fun. I promise.”

Our food comes quickly after that, so we tuck in.

“I was wondering,” I question once I’m done, and Dan is still finishing. “You didn’t drag me out here for that YouTuber meet-up again, did you?”

He freezes then, not eating or chewing. His eyes glance up to mine suspiciously. Then he starts to smile.

“You did, didn’t you!” I cry. Dan struggles to chew and laugh at the same time. For a minute, all I can do is scoff and shake my head. “I can’t believe you’ve really dragged me out here for this. You misdirected me again - and so soon after the last!”

Dan forces down his mouthful so he can speak again. “Don’t tell me you’re getting me mad again,” he pouts. “I simply forget to mention that part. Besides - we don’t have to go, if you really don’t want to. It’s just an idea.”

I fold my arms in a huff, knowing he’s right.

The meet-up isn’t much - just a few British YouTubers deciding to share a night out together. Peej had been invited a while back, so he invited me as well, but I’d completely forgotten about it until today. Since I stopped talking to Peej months ago, I wasn’t planning on going. I wonder if he’ll be there today.

“It isn’t ‘til tomorrow anyway, so we can hang out together for today,” Dan suggests, a smile beaming from his face. He takes another sip of his drink. “So,” he questions, about to hit the ball into my court. “What do you want us to do?”

I think about that for a while. What  _do_ I want us to do? This is the first real time that we’re hanging out as a couple.

All I can think about is what I think Dan might want us to do. Surely he’ll want our time together to be worthwhile, right? How much does he want us to accomplish? Or maybe I’ve overthinking this, and all he really wants is to be with me, and that’s enough for him.

But, not thinking like Dan, what do  _I_ want us to do?

“I… I don’t know.” Timidly, I sip my drink, kind of wishing there was some alcohol in it. “I’ll be honest. I don’t know what’re supposed to do.”

Dan, curious, cocks his head, and stares at me. “Is this because we’re not…  _normal_?” The hurt in his voice as he says that makes my heart ache.

“No! It’s nothing like that!” I tighten my grip around my glass, fixing my eyes on it so I can’t dare to look elsewhere. “Even if we’d gotten together in a different situation, I still… I still wouldn’t know what to do. Dan, I… I’ve never dated anyone before.”

He stays silent at that. For a while. We both do.

“If I’m really honest, I’ve never really had a proper crush on anyone, either.”

Dan’s voice, when he can bring himself to talk, is shy and quiet. “I thought you - ”

“I misled you,” I interrupt. “When I said about how I’ve kissed other people, I lied. In truth, I’ve never kissed anyone but you.” I ring my fingers around each other. “Before you say anything, it’s because I was ashamed, because I’m older than you and you expected so much from me.”

Dan says nothing to that.

“What I mean to say, is that I don’t know what we’re supposed to do. I don’t even know how I’m meant to feel with you. Dating is an entirely alien concept to me.”

What I’m thinking, which is hard to convey, is that I can’t tell what feelings are typical and which are solely present because of this situation. Consciously, I know that our relationship isn’t normal. But despite that, I still can’t figure out what’s normal and what isn’t. I have feelings for Dan - that I know. But what are they? Are they romantic, in the normal sense? Or are they crazy?

“All I know…” I struggle to continue, “is that I want to spend time with you.”

My face flushes pink at the confession. I’ve said that to him before, of course I have. But never on my own accord. This time, it doesn’t feel like his words are in my mouth.

Dan reaches his hands across the table and takes mine into his hold - but, at our location, I quickly tug my hands away and hide them under the table, not daring a look at Dan. I get the feeling that a move like that should anger him. But I can’t help it - we’re in public. I’m not used to other people seeing us together.

Instead, Dan slips his hands under the table, with mine, and takes a hold of them there - this time, I don’t move them away.

“It’s okay,” he mumbles quietly. “All we have to do is follow our instincts. Since we want to spend time together, that’s what we’ll do. Simple.” Finally, I dare to lift my head - and Dan’s smiling at me kindly. Maybe it was the confession that’s put him in a good mood. “Want to go back to the hotel?” he asks me softly.

I shake my head. “Not for… I mean, I want to go on a real date with you; do something new; something normal.” This is why we’re in London for the weekend, isn’t it?

Things with Dan still feel strange, even after coming this far. I want so much better with him, but I’m terrified to try and get it. I don’t think this is a normal feeling, but what do I know? I just want comfort with him. Problem is, the conditions for such comfort are still so blurry.

For a while, Dan doesn’t say anything, and as I watch him nervously, his eyes glance around the room around us, like he’s thinking. Then he looks back at me and gently squeezes my hands.

“How about a cinema date?” he suggests, smiling. “That’s what couples do, right?”

I nod, happy with the idea.

We wait until breakfast is finished and paid for to leave and grab a taxi - Dan wants to go to the Odeon in Leicester Square.

In the taxi, with me and Dan sitting together in the back and just the front two seats between us and the driver, the atmosphere is strangely quiet. The radio is playing, of course, but it’s too low, like a murmuring, which gives me the sense that the driver isn’t always ignoring what happens in the back of his car.

I feel Dan’s hand reach for mine, in my lap, and his fingers try to curl around my own. I pull my hand away.

“No,” I whine as quietly as I can. “Not here.”

Dan persists, reaching over again and leaning his body closer to mine. “But I want to,” he purrs.

Impulsively, I press my hand against Dan’s chest to push him back. “Not  _here_ ,” I repeat, my voice dropping into a hiss. I notice the driver’s eyes dart to us in the mirror so I shuffle myself to the side of the seat, looking away.

For a moment, Dan doesn’t move. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his head look forwards, to the driver, and then he falls back into his seat. “I see,” he mumbles. I can’t tell whether he’s sad or angry. So I glance up, just enough to see his face - he doesn’t look like either. Actually, he looks… curious. Like he’s thinking about something.

Dan doesn’t try to hold my hand again after we leave the taxi.

We buy tickets to see Avatar - a highly rated film, apparently - and buy ourselves some popcorn and drinks to share. Inside the screening, there aren’t too many people - this is one of the last showings of it, I think. The Christmas film is coming out soon, instead. Me and Dan sit ourselves at the back, in the corner, hiding from the rest of the audience.

When the adverts start, Dan leans himself over to me and slips his fingers between mine again, and I find myself holding my breath.

“You’re okay with it here, aren’t you?” he whispers.

“How do you - ”

“I’m not blind, Phil.” Dan squeezes my hand gently, in a loving, reassuring way. “I know what anxiety looks like. You’re worried about people seeing us together.”

My heart leaps into my throat. “No, it’s not… it’s not that…”

“It’s alright,” Dan reassures me again. His voice is still in a whisper, being considerate and not letting anyone around us hear. “I know it’s not about me. It’s about them.”

The lights in the room dim down to darkness, and everyone’s eyes turn and fix on the large screen in front of us, waiting for the film to start. So Dan reaches his other hand into my lap and holds onto both of my hands.

“I don’t want to push you like that. I’m scared in the exact same way.” His fingers tighten round mine. “But I love bringing our relationship outside. It feels more real that way. Don’t you agree?”

Biting my lip, I confidently nod my head. That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking. This is our newest barrier - public exposure, reveal, whatever we should call it. Peej was like a small puddle compared to what we’re talking about here. Isn’t this what dating is all about? Dating is expressing your relationship to the onlooking eyes of others. Right? Hence the hand-holding and restaurant dinners, right? Is that what you do on dates?

I think I’ve been watching too many films.

The film here has already started, but neither of us are watching it properly. Because Dan’s hand is laying in mine, and his thumb is gently stroking along the back of my hand, and I can’t ignore such a gesture.

I always wondered: why date so obviously to the eyes of strangers? Isn’t a relationship supposed to be a private affair? Why force others to witness it? But I get it now, while staring at Dan with an urge to lick my lips. It’s a possessive thing. It’s confidence in what you have together and a primal display of ownership, that this person is yours. It’s a boast.

I wrap my other hand around Dan’s head, forcing him to face me, and I don’t allow him a moment of contemplation before pressing our lips together. I revel in the feeling. People around us could see us right now, and watch us curiously. Maybe some of them get mad. But what does it matter? Dan is mine. I own him. No one else can have him, because I claim him.

He doesn’t try to push me away - instead, he seems to fall into my hold, almost submissively. I suppose that’s approval.

Eventually I pull away, panting quietly. That was a rush.

“Phil,” Dan puffs in a whisper. Even in the dim lighting of this room, I can see his blush. “Are you… Do you want me to do something for you?” He gulps. “Here?”

I raise my eyebrows at the suggestion. “God no,” I laugh. “A kiss is enough.”

He shows me an appreciative smile and turns back to the film.

Once the film is over, it’s practically time for dinner, so we head down the street and decide to have a lovely dinner at a Garfunkel’s. I’ve never been in one before, but Dan says that he’s been in them countless times - this one especially, apparently.

“We used to come here a lot, when we visited London,” he says plainly, chowing down on a large pizza.

“What do you mean?” I ask, wondering if I’m being stupid. “Who?”

Dan stops then. “Oh,” he pouts. “My family.” He pauses. “It was our tradition - go to London, watch a West End show, go to Garfunkel’s, and then go home. I used to love it. It’s why I like taking the train so much: we used to do it all the time.”

A number of questions rise in my mind, swelling by the second - all quite blurry, none quite formed. I wonder about his family.

“Before you ask,” Dan cuts in. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

I decide to appease him - I close my mouth, suppress the questions, and return to my food.

We have dessert as well, but there’s a bitter taste in my mouth that its sweetness can’t cover. It’s a mixture of sympathy and selfishness - I want Dan to confide in me, both for his peace of mind and for my curiosity.

Selfishness will drive him away, I remind myself. So I try to ignore it.

We ride in a taxi home that night, at nearly ten pm. It’s been a long (and expensive) day, but I haven’t paid for a thing. I wonder where Dan gets his money from. He says he has a job, but when does he work? I haven’t seen him go home to Berkshire in weeks. Maybe he got a job in Manchester, just for me. But still - when does he ever leave the house?

 _The_ house. Not even  _my_ house anymore.

Once we settle into our hotel room again for the night, undressed and tucked into bed, with the bedside lamp on, Dan wraps his arms around his knees and stares ponderingly out, seemingly past the confides of this room.

“How long have your parents been living out of your house, Phil?” he asks me suddenly, taking me by surprise.

“Umm,” I struggle to respond. “I don’t really know for sure. Once I came back home after four years at York, they were gone. Michael had also moved out by that time, so the house has been mine since. Our parents finished paying off the mortgage years ago, so I’ve never had to pay anything to live here - expect the bills, of course, but they send me money for that.”

Dan hums in acknowledgement and buries his face further into his knees, barely leaving his eyes at the surface.

“Dan,” I call, grabbing his attention. “Why do you ask? Something’s bothering you, isn’t it?”

He doesn’t respond for a while. “Do they still contact you? Even after they left?”

I finally decide to push myself up onto my knees to join him. “Of course they do,” I mutter quietly back. “Dan. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

He shakes his head slowly. “It’s nothing - ”

“It isn’t nothing,” I shoot back. That makes Dan look at me. “Let me help.”

Dan simply stares at me for a while. I think he’s contemplating it. Then he turns back into his knees.

“We used to be a happy family,” Dan mumbles, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. “Four of us, like you - mum, dad, and my little brother. We were always so close. We had family night every night, playing card games or watching a film.” He doesn’t say anything for a while. “I miss that.”

When he doesn’t say anything else, I dare to try and prompt him. I hope he doesn’t close off now. “Dan,” I call softly, as if talking to a child. “Do they know where you are right now? With me?”

I notice Dan’s fingers tighten round his knees. “I… I live alone,” he finally answers. “I don’t even know where  _they_ are.”

He turns to me then - his eyes shining with the threat of tears. “You were right,” he cries. “I ignored you, but you were right. You’ve been my whole world since they left. I was fifteen - what else was I supposed to do?”

“Hey, hey…” I soothe him, reaching my hands to his jaw. “It’s alright. I didn’t mean to make you cry like this.” Dan lets out a helpless sniffle. “You can stop now. If you want.” I don’t want to push him. I’ve gotten enough out of him now.

He cries quietly in my hold. “I waited for them to come home. I didn’t want to be alone.”

I start to stroke my thumbs as lightly as possible over his cheeks. “So you distracted yourself through me,” I supply, to which Dan nods his head.

“I… I wanted to forget about them.”

I shush him softly and bring his head into my chest, hugging him. “It’s alright,” I soothe. “I understand.”

Dan starts sobbing - I think he’s really letting himself cry. “Do you think I’m weird for it?” he questions me.

“Of course not.” I pull him closer. “I never could.”

We stop talking then. In the silence of our hotel room, Dan slowly recovers, wetting my shirt with his tears and sobbing quietly into my chest. His fingers grip onto me tightly, and I can’t help but feel slightly giddy in this situation, because Dan needs me.

“Please don’t leave me like they did,” he whines. “Promise.”

I smile down at him. “I promise.”

We wake up in yesterday’s clothes the next morning. It’s late - nearly lunchtime - so we stay in bed for a while before going to get lunch. Today feels different, between us: I feel like we’re closer.

“There was one good thing,” Dan tells me, his fingers brushing sleepily along my chest, “about spending my teenage years alone.”

“And what was that?”

He shows me a cheeky smile. “I could masturbate whenever I wanted.”

I laugh out loud at that. “Oh really? That was your main priority, huh?”

Dan just grins at me - he has no shame. “I’m serious. It was a godsend! I don’t know how you coped, still having your family in the house.” Then he raises an eyebrow - I know he’s thinking something bad. “I couldn’t imagine you ever jerking yourself off.”  _Fuck_ , I was right. “And then, I saw it for myself.”  _Oh fuck,_ right, that happened. Quick - change the subject again!

I don’t say anything at first - I push myself up from the bed and position myself over Dan, him laying beneath me. He stares at me with a particular glint in his eye: we’re on a similar wavelength. “What kind of things  _did_ you imagine, then?” I ask him suggestively. “With me.”

As he talks, I lean down and teasingly take his ear between my teeth.

“I… err… I’ve already told you,” he stutters out, voice already trembling.

“Not quite,” I whisper back. “I want details. Who knows?” I reach my hand to his chest and start working his shirt up. “They may even come true.”

At that, Dan seems to gulp. I think I’ve got him.

“One time,” he starts, obliging me, “I had this chain of dreams where you were the one to kidnap me, and you kept me for sex. Like, once, I was chained to your bed by my wrists, on my front, and you… umm…” Dan’s face instantly flushes, turning a bright red right before my eyes. I can’t help but grin. “You worked me… and made me come… and then you fucked me from behind.” He turns his head away from me. “It sounds weird when I say it out loud.”

I let myself laugh. “You know, you’re really cute, Howell. For someone so perverted.” His condition worsens, growing redder. “So what did you do, with this dream?”

“I… I used to jerk off to it,” Dan confesses with a full body shudder. “I’d lay on my front and pretend it was you.”

Strangely, I’m not surprised by such a thing anymore: Dan, years younger, completely obsessed with the idea of sex with me. It’s still hard to believe, for me, but Dan himself doesn’t shock me anymore. I think I’ve grown used to him.

“Alright,” I say, climbing off of him. “What have we got to tie you up with, then?”

Dan’s eyes go wide at that. “Are you - are you serious?”

“As serious as you are,” I say back. “if you want this?”

Dan blushes - a softer, lighter blush than before - and glances away from me again. “There are handcuffs,” he coughs shyly. “In my bag.”

I giggle at that. “Little pervert,” I mumble under my breath.

I retrieve them - he has a few pairs in here - with their key and step back over to the bed. Conveniently, this hotel bed does come with bars at the head of the frame.

“Turn around,” I command, which Dan complies with immediately - even stretching his arms out for me. I reach over him, pull off his shirt, and cuff his wrists to the bed. “Should I assume that you’ve brought lube as well?”

Face down to the pillow, Dan nods his head. “And condoms,” he supplies.

I go and retrieve those as well.

“You were just waiting for this, weren’t you?” I tease him as I reach my hands beneath his hips to undo his jeans. “You were desperate to have sex out here.  That’s why you brought your equipment, right?”

Dan whines quietly, helplessly, into the pillow and buries his face further in.

I tug his jeans completely off and do the same with his boxers.

“Hips up,” I tell him. “So I can reach you.”

As Dan complies, I realise his body is trembling slightly. Was he doing this last night, in the shower? He was definitely extra nervous -  _that_ I can’t forget. So surely this is a good sign.

“Wait,” he says, catching me off-guard. Is something wrong, then? “Lay something down beneath me. I don’t want to stain the sheets.”

I agree with that, so I lay a towel down between us - my own, to dispose of afterwards.

“Remember,” I tell Dan, covering my fingers with lube. “Try not to alert the neighbours, okay?”

When I push my fingers inside, Dan keens and clenches his hands into fists in their restraint. I don’t tease him or drag this out - we still need to fuck once he comes the first time.

“Next time, I want to see you masturbate for me.” I curve my finger slightly downwards and in response Dan’s back arches. “I might even invest in some toys, if you’d like that.”

Dan lets out a long, dragged-out whine. “No need,” he breathes out. “I have my own.”

That makes me smile - and new ideas start to run through my head. “We’re going to have a lot of fun once we get home. Believe me.”

I slip another finger inside of him and push his legs a little further apart. He’s starting to moan already, almost panting with every breath. Even from this angle, he looks gorgeous. It makes me want to grab his hips and force him onto me. With every noise that he makes - that I make him make - I’m spurred to continue until he makes another one. It feels strange, having such control over someone else, but it’s addictive.

I reach my left hand round his hip and wrap my fingers around his cock - amazingly hard and desperate at this point.

“Shit,” I moan, unable to help it. “You need this, don’t you?”

Dan doesn’t say anything, but he rocks into my hand desperately, which well enough gives me his answer.

“Are you going to come soon?” He quickly nods his head. I already know he is: his body is trembling and sweating beneath me.

I pump him a little faster, and try to work my fingers against his favourite spot. The intensity makes Dan gasp out a string of moans and his fingers clench so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

“You look so hot like this,” I admit without thinking. It’s not like I can deny it - I’m already hard from the sight. “I want to see you let go for me, okay?” Dan hums in compliance.

I watch his back arch. His hips rock back onto me with every thrust of my fingers. With every stroke of my hand, Dan’s mouth lets free a choked moan. His legs are shaking.

“You have my permission,” I tell him. “Whenever you’re ready.”

It isn’t long after that. His face buries itself into the pillow, his fingers start to twitch, and hips start to jerk erratically, uncontrollably, into my hand, and I feel him come. I can practically feel the warm flush of his climax wash over me as well.

“T-thank you…” he pants breathlessly.

I draw my hands away. “How did that feel?” I ask him, genuinely curious.

“It's… it’s more  _vulnerable_ than what we’ve done before, when I’m facing you,” he honestly answers. “That made it feel more intense, though, like you were in complete control.”

I consider that, as I remove my trousers too. “Is that why you were shaking so much?” Dan nods quickly to that. I hum back, intrigued, as I slip a condom into place. “You don’t need any more lube, do you?”

He shoots his head round to me - well, as well as he can. “Huh?” he cries dumbly.

“Have you forgotten? This isn’t all about you.” I take both of his hips into my hands. “I still have to come, you know. You’re not against it, right?” Dan blushes - again - and turns his head back forwards. “Of course you aren’t. You love it when I fuck you.”

I push myself into him and gasp at the feeling - now this is  _certainly_ new. It feels so different to sex before. From here, he feels tighter. I don’t know if I can last long tonight.

“Fuck…” he whimpers. “I’m too sensitive…”

I smile. “You’ll get hard quickly then, right?” I reach my hand round and take hold of him again - he twitches, practically throbbing, at the touch, and his mouth lets out a squeak. “You can come a second time.”

“Phil, wait - ”

I reach over him and clasp my other hand round his mouth. “Enough,” I call sternly. It feels like we’re acting when I do this. “I’m not stopping 'til you come. So just let yourself go.”

I keep my hand over his mouth as I continue, starting to groan with the motions. It really does feel good like this.

“ _Fuck_ ,” I gasp, thrusting a little harder. “This is what you wanted, right? To be used? To be mine?” Dan’s moaning into my hand - he can’t help himself. “I could always keep you like this all the time. If you really wanted it.” I laugh at the idea: how ironic would that be?

It takes a while for Dan to get hard again - I think he really was quite sensitive. His body is overwhelmed by shivers as I bring him to his second orgasm, whimpering into my hand. I come soon after, panting and groaning with pleasure.

When I withdraw from his body, I let Dan collapse onto the bed (not before I’ve removed the towel, though), and he continues to tremble. I lay down beside him again and pull the covers over his body, trying to take care of him. I decide to get him some water in a bit.

“How was - ” I start, then I catch sight of his face: tears. His eyes are red. “Oh god! What happened?” A rock of guilt swells in my belly: did I just force him into that?

But, to my relief, Dan lets out a chuckle. “I’m alright,” he reassures me. “These are good tears. It was overwhelming.” He reaches his hands to mine and squeezes, wanting to soothe me. “You’re so good to me.”

I allow myself to be calmed by his words, but anxiety is brewing. Do I lose myself in sex? Could I ever harm Dan like that, like I almost did? The idea of locking him up, even hypothetically, was still so appealing in that moment.

I need to watch myself.

 


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, angst, manipulative behaviour, mentions of drugging/drunk/restraint, kidnapping**

We go out for a late brunch, once Dan has finally recovered.

I shouldn’t have gone so far, not that early in the day. But Dan doesn’t object, or regret it. He actually seems happier. I’ve pleased him. Who knew how much fun that would be for me, too?

Late afternoon, I allow Dan to take me to the YouTuber Get-Together. It’s surprisingly cold for the afternoon, but I suppose it’s expected - it’s winter after all - so Dan is wearing this dark body warmer around his torso. I don’t know why that’s important. I’m not used to seeing him this covered up.

“Dan, wait,” I call after him, pulling him aside before we reach the door.

“Was it is? What’s wrong?” He gives me a sad look. “Don’t you want to go?”

“It’s not that,” I reassure him. “It’s just… well, last time, at the Halloween Gathering, you said we were going as friends. So, are we… what are we going to say this time?”

Dan stares at me for a little while. “What do  _you_ want to tell people?”

Fuck. I was hoping he wouldn’t ask that.

“I, err, I know we’ve come quite far now, but could we keep this to ourselves for just a little longer?” I watch him nervously, hoping he doesn’t get the wrong idea. “Don’t get me wrong - I’m not ashamed of this with you. I just don’t want to risk a hostile reaction.”

His eyes go sad for a moment. “Okay then. If that’s what you want.” I try to suppress my overwhelming relief. “But I don’t want to keep us a secret forever. I’d love to tell people you’re my boyfriend.” He takes my hand into his and squeezes gently, and drops it again just as quickly: we’re still in the public eye, after all. “Promise me that. Promise we’ll tell people some day.”

I try not to gulp in worry. I really fear that concept. None of my family even know about my sexuality - Peej and Dan are the only people I’ve ever told. What would such a thing do to my presence on YouTuber, or to my life in general? What if the people I meet on the street start approaching me for another reason? That’s the risk I’ve always avoided until now.

But this isn’t about me: it’s about Dan. This is about his obsessive fan personality, about the excitement of openly dating AmazingPhil. Besides, Dan has the same fear I do. He wouldn’t out us before we’re ready.

I show him a smile. “Of course,” I reply. “Whenever we’re ready.”

Dan smiles brightly back at me, signalling that I’ve done the right thing. “Friends it is today then. Best friends.” We both nod in approval and finally step inside.

Once the door is open, the sound seems to erupt from inside and overwhelms us both - not just the music with its insane sub-bass, but the loud less-chatter-more-yelling from the huge crowd.

Dan’s arm slinks quickly through mine and holds himself close to me. “Don’t leave me alone,” he mutters quietly. I was about to say the same thing.

The first thing we do is grab some drinks from the bar, because as socially awkward adults we both know that alcohol helps drown out the discomfort of these kinds of situations. We both go for something strong: a pitcher each, vodka-filled, so we can really benefit from the effects. Then we work our way through the crowd, holding tightly onto each other, until we’ve found our own little isolated corner. That fact doesn’t surprise me: that I’d still rather spend time with Dan alone than with any of these people.

“Isn’t it sad,” I chuckle at Dan after a while of sitting here contently with him, “that we’ve come all this way just to stick with each other anyway?”

Dan brings the straw away from his mouth and swallows his mouthful. “It’s not sad,” he reassures me. “I wouldn’t call it that. I think it’s sweet, and it says a lot of good things about us.”

I hum in agreement with him there.

“You may already know this,” Dan continues, “subconsciously. But I don’t need anyone else but you.” That statement makes me blush. “I can barely stand other people’s company. You’re the only person I can be around.”

“Stop saying things like that,” I deadpan, ducking my head down to try and hide my blush from any watching eyes. “Not in a place like this.”

Dan doesn’t argue with that, which surprises me a bit.

For a while, we don’t say anything. We just sip our drinks. I wonder if Dan has much he can say to me that isn’t like  _that_. I wonder if he’s always thinking like that when he sees me. He takes out his phone and stares at it for a while, then he puts it back in his pocket. Sometimes I find myself wondering who else he has in his life. Is it really just me?

“You know, you two really stand out?”

I snap my head up at the voice, recognising it instantly. Peej.

I can’t say anything. I can’t do anything but stare at him blankly, trying not to give anything away.

“I mean, when you’re standing you both tower over everyone. But just seeing you two together… you just look different to everyone else.”

Strangely, I find myself breaking out into a smile.

“I’m so happy to see you!” I cry out with joy, jumping up and hugging Peej tightly. “You haven’t said a word since you left last week! You said you’d come and visit.”

Peej coughs awkwardly and doesn’t reply to that.

“Hi Peej!” Dan calls, grinning just as happily as I am. I’m relieved to see him react like that. He holds his arms out invitingly after I left Peej go, asking for the same thing. Awkwardly, and after a hesitant moment, he complies, allowing Dan’s arms to gently wrap around him. “It feels like forever since we’ve seen each other! I was hoping you’d be coming tonight.”

Peej blinks, silent. “Oh, really?” Dan eagerly nods his head. “That’s nice of you. I never realised we were such good friends.”

I can barely dare to look at Dan once Peej says that, but I chance it: for a second, his eyes are mad - it certainly got to him - but then they’re sad, and finally he smiles again.

“Silly! Of course we are! Don’t you remember all the good times we’ve spent together?”

Peej doesn’t say anything to that.

Now I really feel the unspoken tension in the air, like a gun that could be fired at any moment.

A hand reaches out from behind Peej and suddenly hooks round his neck, yanking him back, and for a panicked moment all my senses go into overdrive - but he starts to laugh, and the arm falls away from his neck.

“You little shit,” Peej laughs - I think he’s already had a few drinks, because he doesn’t swear that often. He swore a few times with me and Dan, but that wasn’t a typical scenario: he thought he was going to die, or at least go insane. I wonder how well he’s recovered since then.

From behind Peej, a person appears, the owner of the arm. I recognise that face.

“Dan, Phil: you guys remember Chris, right?”

Fuck, of course! The guy from the Halloween Gathering.

“Hey guys!” Chris yells over the music. Then he takes a long swig of his drink. “Cool party! You’re friends with Peej, right?”

“Yeah,” Dan responds quickly. I glance over to him at the sound of his voice, concerned, because that wasn’t as chirpy as he’s been with Peej this evening. “And so are you.” His smile looks a little more forced now, which is strange, because I could understand him being mad at Peej, but why Chris? We don’t even know him. Well, at least, I don’t. Could it be that Dan knows Chris already, then? Or is he acting territorial instead, like he did around Peej? After the struggle Peej was for him, I could understand if he was fearing the same thing with this new person. But that shouldn’t happen, not like Peej, because Chris holds no claim to me like Peej did. I’ve never really met him before.

“Hey, Peej?” Chris calls, placing a firm hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom for a minute, ‘kay?”

Peej fails to hide his amusement: I see his mouth curl into a smile. “Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

He stumbles off to find the toilets without another word, strangely taking his drink with him - the sight of which makes a smile form on my face, too.

“Oh shit,” Dan says from next to me. “I forgot I’ll have to drive us back from the train station tomorrow. I shouldn’t really be drinking tonight.” I pout at that: I’ve never really seen Dan drink, besides getting a little bit tipsy, so I was excited about seeing it tonight. “You can keep my drink for yourself, since it cost eight quid.” He pushes himself up onto his feet and shoves his hands into his jeans’ pockets. “I’m gonna go get something non-alcoholic.”

I nod to him as he leaves, disappearing into the crowd.

Huh. I thought he didn’t want to leave my side. Maybe he only said that for my benefit.

Since I’ve still got loads of my pitcher left, I offer it to Peej. He stares at me worriedly.

“I can't…” He drifts off, shaking his head.

I sigh at that response. “Come on,” I groan. “He hasn’t drugged it. I’ve been watching him this whole time.” Still, Peej refuses. So I offer him my glass instead. Even more to my shock, Peej stares at that one with the exact same look.

I scoff at that. “Really? You think  _I’d_  try to hurt you, now? Is that it? I didn’t even know you were coming!”

Peej doesn’t seem ashamed by his accusing implications. “What do you expect me to think? You’ve practically been brainwashed by him. Don’t I have a right to be wary?”

I put the drink down firmly, making a loud  _thud_. “That  _hurts_ , Peej,” I hiss. “I’ve come to like him. So what? He’s opened up to me. I know him better than I did before. I was quick to judge him, and I regret that. Why the fuck would that make me brainwashed?”

I think I’ve drank quite a bit already - I tend to do that when I feel awkward.

Peej leans closer to me and glares angrily. “He’s a fucking  _psycho_ , Phil,” he spits in a whisper. “You of all people know how mad he can get. How could you bear to be around him if you aren’t insane?”

“Because I understand him now,” I shoot back. Then something clicks, and I lean back slightly. “Oh. I get it.” I find myself smirking. “You’re jealous of him.”

“Fuck off.” He takes a swig of his drink.

“I know jealousy when I see it,” I gloat. “Dan was just the same: getting all aggressive, even with me, indirectly, because you’re so hyped-up you don’t really care about where you’re aiming and you catch me in the crossfire.” I take a big mouthful of my own drink, ignoring the straw. “I bet you’d act just as violently if you had the chance. I can guess you already want to hurt him,” I scoff. “Badly. And you’d justify it through a drive to get justice for me.”

“Shut it,” Peej growls. I notice his fingers are starting to shake. “Don’t joke about how much I care about you. Don’t you get it? I came here for you. D'you think I wanted to risk bumping into him again, even when I knew it was inevitable? I did it because I fucking  _care_ about you, Phil. I want to see that you’re okay.”

I laugh at that. “Really?” His stare is unwavering. “That’s some bullshit. All this week you completely forgot about me, focusing on your own recovery, didn’t you?”

“That’s not true!” Peej cries, suddenly putting on the defensive. “You think I didn’t try to reach you? He wouldn’t let me! I tried calling, texting, emailing, hell - I even sent you letters! But you didn’t reply to a single one!”

Shit. Did he really?

“That’s not true,” I whine. “Dan promised… he said you could call whenever you wanted.”

Now, at that, it’s Peej’s turn to scoff. “You believed him? You should know how much he likes to lie.”

I don’t say anything to that. Fuck. Here I was, spitting fire at Peej, when I’m the idiot. How humiliating.

Suddenly, Peej’s hand lands on my shoulder - a reassuring gesture. When I raise my head to look at him, I can see that his eyes hold a new sadness.

“That means you’re not brainwashed…” he says, strangely, with a light smile. “You’re just a little near-sighted, as always.”

“Rude,” I moan back.

To my surprise, Peej takes my drink out of my hand and starts sipping from it himself, and the gesture makes me smile. I’m glad we’re friends again, as delicately as we’re balancing on that title for the moment.

“You’re not going to drunk confess to me again, are you?” Peej laughs as he drinks.

“Oh god, I hope not.” I cringe. “I shouldn’t, now that I have Dan.”

He doesn’t smile at that. It’s understandable.

“Phil,” he asks he quietly. I turn to him, prompting him to continue. “Do you plan to stay with him for a long time?”

I pause, hesitate, and look down at my drink. “I… I don’t know yet.” I think about it for another moment. “I haven’t really thought that far.”

Peej stays silent for a while, but he doesn’t take another mouthful of drink - even through just the atmosphere between us, I can tell that he’s struggling with something he wants to say.

“Don’t,” he spits out suddenly. “Please don’t stay with him. He’s not healthy - surely you know that, somewhere, deep down. Promise me you won’t stay with him forever.”

_“Do you want to spend your life with me?” he questions, the desperation clear in his voice. I nod my head straight away. “Well I do too. So it will work.”_

_“Don’t leave me alone,” he mutters quietly. I was about to say the same thing._

_“Please don’t leave me like they did,” he whines. “Promise.”_

My throat clogs up.

“I… I promise.”

Peej smiles warmly at that. He’s happy that I’ve pleased him.

I groan as I wake up, not being able to remember anything past that conversation.  _Fuck_ , my head is throbbing, like my heart has crawled up into my brain. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt a hangover as bad as this.

My body begins to rock gently - only gently - which may have spurred me awake. The quiet sounds of a moving vehicle fill my head. So I open my eyes: I’m in the front seat of Dan’s car. He’s driving us along some duel carriageway. I don’t recognise it.

Awareness slowly washes down my body, as it does in the morning, and I realise that my hands are chained behind my back again. Handcuffs? Is this the real reason Dan brought them? I want to ask him about it, but I find my mouth to be covered with a tight piece of cloth. At least he’s never used that strange proper gag on me still: for that, I guess I can be thankful.

“It’s alright,” Dan whispers, startling me. I glance over to him. He glances over at me every once in a while, keeping his eyes mostly trained on the road. “You haven’t done anything wrong. These are just precautions.”

I whine in confusion:  _precautions for what? Why are they here if nothing’s gone wrong._

“I don’t want you interfering,” he mutters quietly. “I know you’re very emotionally attached to him.”

My heart drops in dread at what he’s implying.

Dan tilts his head briefly back, as if to indicate to something behind him, so I turn my head around.

There, in the back of the car, chained by his hands and feet, blindfold and gag in place, curled up, trembling, and whimpering, is Peej.

My heart clenches at the sight. I let out a whine of objection but Dan shushes me harshly.

“Don’t,” he warns me. “He’s been bad. That’s why he’s here.”

 _What?_ I’m desperate to cry out.  _What do you mean? What did he do? Was it last night? Because we were drunk!_

“Just keep quiet for now, okay? Please?” Dan turns his head and gives me a pleading look. “I know what I’m doing. Just trust me.”

I try to make myself calm down. It isn’t that I trust him, or that I’m okay with whatever he’s about to do. It’s that I know I can’t do anything to stop him.

I lay back in my chair and try to ignore the sounds of Peej in the back. I come to believe that he’s awake, in the back, and he’s crying in terror. The concept makes my stomach twist in despair.

We reach our destination - our  _apparent_  destination - after another half an hour, during which Peej’s noises never seemed to let up.

Dan parks his car on the drive of some house I don’t recognise and gets out without a word - the sound of which, apparently, makes Peej panic, and his whines get worse. My face scrunches up in pain at the sound. I know why he sounds so… how to describe it? Pitiful? Desperate? Terrified? It’s because he knows how much trouble he’s in. Before, Dan has been violent with him, detained him, drugged him and abused him, and even convinced him that he was going to die. He’s seen Dan behave far worse with me. He knows that whatever’s coming for him, it’s going to be worse than it was before. Even I’m scared for him.

My passenger door is opened and I stay still as Dan leans over me, letting him unclip my seatbelt and help me out of the car. He walks me up to the door of the house and takes out a key.

And then it clicks.

It’s his house.

Dan helps me inside and sits me down in the living room, on the sofa, and starts to remove my restraints.

As he does so, I take a look around, admiring the room around me. It’s very much like his bedroom in design: beige and white in colour, plain and minimalistic, and kept very clean. It’s almost like no one lives here.

I wonder if I’ll get to see his room.

Dan pulls down the gag from my mouth before reaching to the back of my head to untie it.

“Are you alright?” he asks me softly. I nod quickly without hesitation. Sighing in relief, Dan settles his hands on my cheeks lovingly. “That’s good. You’re not in trouble, okay? I just needed to keep you away from him for a little while. I never wanted to scare you like this again. Do you understand?” I nod within his hold, making him smile. “Thank you.”

He makes to move away, but I grip his wrists again and hold him back. “Can you tell me what’s going on?” I ask him timidly. If I speak too loudly, I fear my head will burst. “What did Peej do wrong?”

Dan sighs and settles himself down on the floor in front of me. “I’ll admit: I brought us to the Get-Together last night with the intention of bringing Peej back here. I brought a little something to slip into his drink, that I put in my own, but I found out too late that you’d swapped with him. Luckily, though, you did get him drunk enough for me to coerce him into coming back to the hotel with us. From there, I could drug him properly, and then I took us all to the train station to bring us back here.” He glances away from me, supposedly ashamed. “I’m sorry for misdirecting you again. I just knew that you wouldn’t want me to go through with this, because you care about Peej too much to think objectively in this situation.”

I find myself reaching my hands down to cup Dan’s chin gently. “Dan,” I call quietly - again, hangover. “What did he do?”

He stares at me unwaveringly. “He told.” My heart skips a beat. “He revealed secrets about our time together. He wasn’t supposed to. Perhaps that rule was unspoken, but his intentions were clearly hostile.”

“Wh-what?” I gasp out. My heart begins to race, anxiety bubbling dangerously. What did he blab about? Did he reveal things about me? “How do you know?”

“I fitted him with a tracker,” Dan confesses. “I’ve been tracking his movements on my phone. At first, he went straight home - I think it was his home, or at least his family - and then, for the last couple of days, he went somewhere else. I went to visit, to have a peak at where he was, and it turns out he was with a friend. Peej has broken out trust, and we have to deal with that.”

“Wait…” I mumble. “ _We_?”

Dan hums in confirmation, standing himself up. “He’s betrayed the both of us, hasn’t he?” I can’t argue with him there.

He places a soft kiss to my cheek and makes for the door again. This time, I don’t stop him.

I feel something strange now. It’s like ice freezing over my feelings towards Peej. I’m not as scared for him anymore. He’s betrayed me. He’s humiliated me. It’s like ice, and a mixture of fire. It feels unusual, but I can’t stop it.

Dan carries in a still very restrained and very tearful Peej, placing him down in front of the radiator and rechaining his cuffs around the piping. When he sits back, I can see the tears that have run and are still running down Peej’s blindfold. Every breath is a hick or a whimper. His body is trembling helplessly. I don’t feel as sorry for him as I did before.

“I’ve just got to empty the boot still,” Dan tells me, to which I nod and wait patiently again.

He doesn’t stay out for very long. I hear his heavy footsteps as he walks back in, huffing and grunting like he’s carrying something heavy. I honestly don’t know what he had in there.

As he steps back into the living room, my eyes go wide with shock.

“We have a new friend!” Dan sings as he carefully settles his luggage against the next radiator and chains it in place. This one doesn’t have a blindfold, and he is very much awake. “Welcome, Chris! Also known as…” Dan fists his newest victim’s hair tightly and makes him yelp into his gag, “… the guy that Peej snitched to.”

 


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, angst, manipulative behaviour, mentions of drugging/drunk/restraint, kidnapping, violence/knives, mentions of blood, smut (dream, fingering)**

“Aren’t you proud of me?”

Dan’s grinning at me, sitting next to me on the sofa. I can only stare on in horror at the scene before me: another hostage. Another person who knows about me and Dan. It makes me feel sick.

“It isn’t easy getting three barely conscious people to our hotel room, and then on the train, you know?” Dan continues to boast. “I had to follow Chris into the bathroom, since he took his drink with him.” So that’s where he went, not to the bar. “I’ll be honest: I wasn’t planning on him coming with us as well. I didn’t know that Peej was bringing him with him to the party - I can only track the one of them, after all. But once he showed up, and he looked at me like that, what else could I do?”

Chris won’t stop staring at me. His mouth is still covered, and his hands are chained behind him, but I still don’t feel safe with him in here. I’d rather only his eyes were covered. Because I see, from the way he’s looking at me, how much he knows, and how much he’s judging me, and above all how terrified he is right now. It’s exposing and invasive, but I don’t want to dare look away.

“You,” Dan calls suddenly, making our new hostage’s eyes move to him. Dan pushes himself up from the sofa and walks over to him, kneeling down in front of him, and pulling his makeshift gag down. “What has Peej told you?”

Chris’s eyes, to my shock, shoot straight to me. “N-nothing,” he stutters. “Nothing important.” Dan cocks his head at that, promptingly, so Chris looks at him again. “He mentioned you, of course he did. You’re all friends. But he never talked about anything…. Anything like this…” He twists his wrists behind his back to signify what he means.

Dan glares at him for a long while. “Liar,” he spits out. “I don’t like liars.”

“I-it’s true!” he cries out, fear creeping into his voice. “I swear!”

Dan’s hand is suddenly on his jaw, and he’s gripping tightly. I see Chris hold his breath at that action. “You’re lying,” he growls. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t look at me like  _that_. Like you fear me. You’re certainly unsure, but you’ve been told about something.”

Again, Chris’s gaze drifts over to me. Then he gulps.

“He told me…” he starts, voice shaking. “He told me that you’re Phil’s boyfriend. And that, sometimes, you hurt him.”

I see Dan go stiff at that. So that’s why he keeps looking at me. And he fears Dan because he knows he’s violent.

I hear Peej sniffle a little in his place, reminding me that he’s here. Dan still hasn’t removed any of his restraints though - all he can do is sit there helplessly and listen.

“But I swear - that’s everything! He never said anything else.” He drops his gaze to the floor. “Please believe me. I just want to go home now. I never wanted to get involved.”

I don’t why, but the fact that Dan lets go of him surprises me.

“That’s fair,” he says. “You aren’t the one that did anything wrong. You didn’t betray anyone.”

I glance over to Peej to see him stiffen. He must be listening very carefully.

“Dan,” I call out, which makes him turn to face me. “What’s going on?”

He frowns at me, like I’ve just said something incredibly stupid. “What do you mean? I’m finding out the extent of Peej’s betrayal, so we can punish him accordingly.”

My eyes widen. “ _Punish_? What the hell are you talking about? We can’t hurt him!”

Dan scoffs at that. “Can’t you hear yourself? This is exactly what I meant by your overbearing emotional attachment. Didn’t you hear what Chris said? Peej revealed secrets about you that made you look weak. What do you think Chris thinks, when he looks at you? Sympathy?  _Pity_? And why do you think Peej said any of it? It’s not like they came to help you. It was selfish. He used you.”

“Stop it…” I whine.

“It’s true and you know it.”

I don’t argue with him. I know he’s right. Peej didn’t come to help me this time. Now that I think about it, he probably lied about trying to contact me, knowing that I’d have no way of checking. Peej doesn’t care about me - he just holds a vendetta against Dan.

“So? Do you understand?” Dan asks me softly. I slowly nod my head. “Good. I’d like you to pick his punishment.”

Peej lets out a muffled whine into his gag and presses himself against the radiator behind him, like he’s trying to get away.

“You’re the one he’s hurt the most,” Dan reminds me. “So I’ll give you the honour. Punish him until you’re satisfied.”

I realise how strange this position feels. I’m in a room with two hostages - tied up, restrained, helpless - and I’m not one of them. I’m with Dan. He’s brought me up with him.

He stares at me expectantly, waiting for an answer.

“Okay.”

Dan smiles with pride. “I’ll give you some privacy,” he tells me, walking over to Chris and unchaining him from the radiator to take him as well. “Everything you need is in the kitchen, down the hall.”

I get chills from the implications.

Timidly, I make my way over to Peej and kneel down in front of him. He’s shaking terribly now - uncontrollably - and whimpering with every breath. He must be terrified.

Carefully, I reach my hands round the back of his head and untie his blindfold, letting it fall between us. His eyes, now revealed to me, are sickly red on the whites and achingly pink on the rims. He’s been crying for a long time.

“Is it true?” I ask him quietly. “What Chris said; is it true?”

Peej lets out a whine into his gag.

“Use your head,” I tell him. “Yes or no. Did you tell him about me and Dan?”

His body has gone stiff again. It’s a strange feeling, having someone fear me. He slowly nods his head.

“Why?” I feel my blood starting to get hot: rage again? “Why would you tell him that stuff? Why would you hurt me like that?” I tug the cloth out of his mouth harshly. “Tell me.”

Peej’s bottom lip trembles, and I realise he’s starting to cry again. “I’m sorry,” he gasps out. “I’m so so sorry, Phil. I never wanted to hurt you. I just couldn’t keep it in. It felt like, if I didn’t tell someone, I was betraying you and leaving you there. All I wanted was to help you, I swear.” His face twists up and he starts to sob, tears falling down onto his cheeks. “Please don’t hurt me. I’m scared.”

I use the material previously acting as a blindfold to carefully wipe away some of Peej’s new tears - the closeness makes him flinch, but he doesn’t stop me.

“I never said I was going to hurt you,” I reassure him. “I could never want to cause you any pain. You’re my best friend.” I show Peej the friendliest smile I can. “But I don’t want you to do this again, so I have to find a way to make sure.”

His eyes widen. “I-I promise, I won’t tell anyone anymore - I  _promise_!”

_Fuck_ , he sounds so desperate. I don’t want to terrorise him like this. But I can’t accept that. I can’t be sure with a promise on its own. Now I know how Dan must feel.

“Prove it,” I tell him. “Prove to me that you won’t tell anyone.”

Peej stares at me blankly - truly  _blankly_ , like he can’t think of anything. I know that feeling: how are you supposed to know what will prove your devotion?

Suddenly, I see the blankness in his eyes overcome with something - an idea, I presume, and he lowers his head, refusing to look at me.

“Umm, you could…” he struggles out. “I could… could let you kiss me…”

My eyebrows raise at that idea. “Why would we do that? Why would I want to kiss you?”

At that, Peej’s face flushes a bright embarrassed red. “I-I thought, because you kissed me before…” His voice trails off. He refuses to look at me.

“Peej, we’ve always been friends. I’ve never actually had feelings for you,” I reassure him. “I kissed you when I was drunk, right? I was confusing you for Dan. I thought I was kissing Dan.”

His red face only gets worse.

I lean down to see him better. “You didn't… you didn’t  _want_ me to kiss you, did you?” I ask, startled.

Peej shoots his head up, alarmed. “N-no! Of course not! I just thought you did!” Then he slumps again. “I want to go home now…” he mumbles sadly. “I get the message, okay? I won’t tell.  _So please_ \- please let me go home now!”

I grit my teeth. “Stop it,” I seethe. “You know we can’t do that. Not yet.” I can see why Dan used to be impatient with me: I must have irritated him so much.

But Peej doesn’t stop. “ _We_? Don’t talk like that! This isn’t like you, Phil! Can’t you hear yourself?” His cuffs rattle against the metal behind him. “You may think you’re beside him now, but you’re still just his slave!”

That makes me really mad. “Shut up,” I hiss, warning him.

Peej persists, knowing he’s getting to me. “You’ll never be anything more to him than a pet. Don’t you get that?” He starts to yell. “You want to know why I  _really_ told Chris about you two? It’s because I didn’t believe you’d stay on my side for long. I’m convinced that you’ll completely forget what’s wrong with Dan, and I’ll have to find a way to save you - ”

A loud slaps echoes through the room, and then it falls into silence. Peej’s head is frozen to the side. My hand burns from the impact. I don’t think I’ve ever lashed out like that before.

Do I regret it?

I stand myself up and make my way to the kitchen, retrieve a knife, and return. Peej’s looking at me again by the time I come back - his cheek is already starting to turn red - and at the sight of what’s in my hand he starts to whine and yell.

“Shut up,” I growl. I undo his chains, pull off his shirt, and shove him onto his front, replacing the cuffs. He cries at me for two things: one, to know what I’m doing, and two, to stop what I’m doing. I don’t listen to either. “Keep still,” I warn him. That only makes his cries worse.

“Phil, please!” he screams at me. “I’m sorry! I won’t say it again! Please don’t hurt me!”

I reach over him, grab his gag, and pull it back into his mouth. “You’ll need this,” I warn him. “It’s hard not to cry out.”

I kneel over Peej’s body and bring the knife to his exposed lower back. Strangely, I find my hands aren’t shaking. I’m grateful for that: I wouldn’t want to mess this up.

I press the knife down, like I did for Dan’s thigh marking, and instantly Peej lets out a howl into his gag. I don’t tell him to quieten down because I know there would be little point in it. I carve a line straight down, along the far left of his flesh, and then make a horizontal line over the top of it, creating a  _T_  in his back. I then continue to form an  _E_ , then a couple of  _L_ s. At this point, Peej’s struggles lessen, and his noises reduce to short whimpers. I feel a great relief at that: it makes this far easier.

“Done,” I exclaim after a few more minutes. I sit back and observe my work: sitting nicely at the base of Peej’s back, fitting comfortably, is the word  _TELLTALE_. It would have been better to position it somewhere that he’ll see it, granted, but at least he’ll feel this one. “I’ll clean it up a bit and take a picture for you once it’s dried.”

Peej sobs - crying again - and says nothing.

“You can go, after that,” I reassure him. “I wouldn’t put your shirt on for a while, though - blood is really hard to get out of fabrics like this.”

I leave him where he is to go and find Dan. The front door is locked - in case Peej got free, perhaps? - but I can see him through the glass, so I open it and step outside with him. He turns round, hearing me approach, and smiles widely.

“Did you do it? Are you happy?”

I smile back. “Yeah. It’s good now.”

He shuts the boot of the car and walks back over to me. “That’s brilliant! So we can take them home now. Is that alright?” I nod to that, giving permission. Dan’s face shines brighter. “Chris is all ready for the journey anyway - I’ve put him to sleep again, because he got a little worked up.”

Dan leads us back inside, making sure to lock the door again behind us. “So what did you do with Peej, exactly?” he asks me.

At that, I feel myself go shy. I don’t think I can bring myself to say it, because it doesn’t sound like something I’d really do. It’s more Dan’s thing.

“We can…” I clear my throat. “We can just look, anyway. It’s drying for the moment.”

Dan’s eyes portray his excitement at those words and he rushes in to see my work: upon setting his eyes on it, he stops in the middle of the room and starts to laugh.

“Oh  _wow_ , Phil!” he gasps out. “I never would have thought you’d do this! I’m impressed!”

Despite the compliment, my stomach starts to twist up sickeningly. Peej is still sniffling and the skin of his back has turned a sickly, irritated red. The flesh that’s been cut through looks unhealthy, and I don’t like the look of it. Dan calls it  _art_ , but when I see it now, it just looks painful.

“I’ll help clear up the excess,” Dan tells me, going into the kitchen again. Looking at Peej, I can’t bring myself to move. So I stand there, observing, as Dan returns with a wet cloth and starts rubbing it carefully over the scar on Peej’s back - he starts to whimper and flinch, and I can see all the muscles in his body clenching and twitching in distress. It makes my heart tighten. I sit myself down on the sofa and grip the cushions tightly. I regret it now. I regret that I’ve done this to him. I didn’t mean to do it. I’m glad Dan is the one that’s cleaning it up.

“There,” he says calmly once he’s done. Then he turns to me. “Do you want to show him your work before he goes?”

_No_ , I think to myself. “I said I’d take a photo of it so he could see,” I instead mutter.

Dan hums in approval and takes his phone out, snapping the photo himself, and holding it in front of Peej’s face so he can see it. “Look at it,” he says to him. “Isn’t it pretty?”

Peej lets out a pained whine when he sees it. It makes me feel worse.

Dan unchains him then, helps him put his shirt back on, and redoes his cuffs behind his back. As I still sit there, feeling an urge to throw up out of guilt, Dan brings them both onto their feet.

“Back to the car then, hmm?” he says to me, a smile on his face.

“Wait,” I interrupt. “Could we… could I see your room first?” Dan cocks his head at those words. “I really want to see it.”

His smile widens: I guess such an interest makes him happy. “Sure we can,” he sings. “We can even spend the night - if you’d like.”

I consider that offer very deeply. It’s not something I’ve realised I want before, but now that it’s been mentioned, I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do instead.

“I’d love that,” I smile back.

So we bring Chris’ unconscious body back out from the car and settle them both in Dan’s parents’ old en suite room - apparently, he hasn’t opened that door in a few years; he couldn’t bring himself to. We don’t restrain them to the bed, or to anything, but we keep their cuffs on their wrists and lock the door - just in case.

Then, happily, Dan leads me to his room - it looks just like it does on camera, on Skype and in his videos. It seems larger in person, though, and brighter (his camera quality isn’t the best - it’s like it’s constantly stuck on some sepia filter). I like it in here. It feels homey and comfortable. It reminds me of our first calls together, when Dan was shy with me. I miss that version of him.

“It’s getting late,” he says to me. “We should probably make everyone dinner before we get some sleep.”

I agree to that, joining him in the kitchen instead.

We leave the plates and cups of water in their room before heading to bed ourselves, wrapping up under Dan’s duvet and snuggling into each other. I wrap my arms around his body, holding him close, and Dan’s hand plays with my hair.

“I’m really proud of you today,” he whispers with a smile. “I like you being on my side.”

I smile back. “I like it too. But… But I don’t like hurting people. Especially Peej.”

Dan chuckles to himself. “You seemed to enjoy it at the time.” That makes my chest pang with dread. “At the very least, you wouldn’t have done it so eagerly if you hated it. But regret is a good thing,” he reassures me, gently laying his hand on my neck. “I regret loads of the things I’ve done to you. It’s a different mindset between the two, you know? It’s normal. So don’t fret about it.”

I let out a deep sigh and decide to believe him. As much as I hate it now, I’m glad that I was able to do it at the time. It was necessary: Peej needed to learn not to tell on us like that.

We fall asleep soon after, with the warmth of Dan’s hand feeling nicer than it has before.

_Kneeling on top of me, and moaning softly, is Dan. He isn’t wearing anything, and with one hand he’s working his fingers inside himself, with the other he’s slowly stroking his cock. He’s hard. I wonder if I am too: this sight is certainly getting to me._

_“Phil,” he moans out, as he likes to. He starts to sway his hips slightly, gasping at the feeling. I feel a sudden, powerful urge to grab him, but I can’t bring myself to interrupt this show. “Do you like this?” he asks me._

_I nod my head quickly, eagerly, definitely enjoying it. I notice he has a light blush on his cheeks. “Are you shy about this?” I ask him instead. Dan turns his head away from me, confirming my thoughts. “How cute.”_

_He cries out suddenly, shivering - I think he found a good spot. “Phil, I’m ready,” he whines. “Please. I want you inside me.” Those words rush straight to my cock._ Fuck _, why does Dan always sound so hot when he begs like that?_

_He withdraws his fingers and instead positions himself over my hips, carefully holding my cock at the base._

_  
“Wait!” I call out. “Aren’t Peej and Chris still here? We can’t do this!”_

_He cocks his head. “Why not? This was your idea.”_ Was it?!  _“It’s okay,” Dan purrs, leaning down to kiss me. “I’ll try to be quiet.”_

_He sinks himself down onto me and I moan out in satisfaction. It actually feels really good. We’ve never done this before._

_“Fuck…” Dan moans as he works himself on me. “Fuck, this feels good. We have to do this again sometime.” I groan back, agreeing, loving the idea. I start to rock my hips up, desperate for it._

Then I wake up.

“Huh?” I groan, glancing down: Dan is under the covers, laying by my crotch, and he’s stroking me gently. “What… Dan?”

He looks up at me, and his eyes go wide.

“Umm…” he struggles. “You’re awake?”

I just blink at him - I’m too tired to react, let alone do anything else. “I am,” I mumble back sleepily. “What are you doing?”

Dan glances back down at his hand, then back up to me. “Are you unhappy with me?”

I just stare at him for that. That’s not the reaction I would expect, to be honest. “That's… is this why I had that dream?” I hadn’t thought about that before: you can feel pleasure like this even when you’re asleep? Strange.

Dan’s eyes sparkle at what I’ve said. “Dream? You were having a dirty dream, all because of me?” My face instantly flushes, making Dan smile. He climbs up my body and shoots me a suggestive look. “What was it about? We could do it, if you’d like.”

I force my eyes away from him, shy about talking about it. It was my first dream like that where Dan wasn’t hurting me or terrorising me in some way. “Well, we were… we were having sex…” I struggle out, feeling my face practically burn up. “You were, umm, on top of me, like you were… umm…”

Dan tilts his head to the side adorably. “Riding you?” My blush grows considerably worse. “I was riding you?!”

“Y-yeah…”

At that, Dan sits himself up on top of me and starts to pull off his underwear - I gulp at the sight.

“So…” he purrs. “You want me to ride you now?”

How else could I reply to that? I eagerly nod my head. It makes Dan’s smile widen.

“I want that too.” He brings his fingers up to his mouth and starts to suck on them gently, suggestively, and I can’t help how much that affects me down below. He pulls them out and reaches them down behind him, and then he lets out a soft whine, telling me what he’s doing. “I’ve been desperate to ever since the first time.”

“The… the first time?” I ask him, confused. Dan lets out a sudden moan and starts to tremble, and I don’t bother to ask him again.

“Fuck, Phil…” he whimpers. “I’ve been hard for so long now… I just want you inside me now.” I feel the urge to moan at just that. I’m really quite horny and suggestive, aren’t I? “I want to make you come all by myself.” With that, he lets out a sudden loud moan and drops his head back.

“Dan,” I call, holding carefully onto his hips. “Chris and Peej are still here. We can't…” I drop my voice to a quiet whisper, suddenly feeling very paranoid. “We can’t have sex in here.”

Dan pouts. “But why not? You wanted it first. And now that you’ve mentioned it…” He walks his fingers over my chest to tease me. “… I can’t just forget about it. I need it.”  _Ugh_ , he needs to stop making it sound so good. “Thinking about all the things I’ve imagined you doing to me in this very bed, over the last three years…” His body suddenly shudders. “ _Fuck_ , I couldn’t miss this opportunity.” He grips my shoulders tightly. “Fuck me.  _Please_ , Phil. I’m begging you.”

I bite my lip. For all I know, our guests are listening from the other room - they might not want to, either. But Dan is so appealing right now, I don’t think I can refuse. Now that he’s mentioned it, I want to think about all the things that Dan has done and thought about, right where I’m laying. I can’t get any of it out of my head.

I squeeze my fingers round his hips desperately. “Be a good boy for me, Dan,” I purr, making Dan’s eyes widen. “Fuck yourself on me.”

 


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lateness of this chapter - I was having internet AND laptop problems yesterday :(

**WN: strong language, angst, manipulative behaviour, mentions of drugging/drunk/restraint/knife violence, kidnapping, smut (fingering, riding)**

Dan slips his fingers out of himself - with a soft sigh - and positions himself over me, kneeling either side of my hips, and holding the base of my cock carefully to keep it still.

“I can…” His voice trembles in anticipation: I’d forgotten how much these situations affect him. “I can make myself come untouched like this.”

 _Fuck_ , that sounds like a hot sight. “How do you know that?” I ask him.

He pauses for a moment, thinking carefully. “When we did this last time,” he tells me flatly, like I’m supposed to remember.

“I don’t remember doing this before,” I tell him, feeling a little bit dumb for it. “When was that?”

At that, interestingly, I see Dan gulp.

“You were…” he says slowly, struggling to get it out. “Drunk. You were drunk. You never remember anything when you wake up from that.” He lets out a little laugh. “You know, you’re really flirty when you drink.” Oh god, don’t remind me. Then, Dan starts to smirk. “And when you  _really_  drink, you get horny. But you wouldn’t know that, would you?”

At that, I gulp. “ _Oh god_ …” I cry in horror. What terribly embarrassing things have I done when I’ve gotten  _that_ drunk?!

“Don’t get all shy about that,” Dan giggles at me. “You know how much I love sex with you? I could never complain. Especially…” Suddenly, he lowers himself onto me, and I can’t help but let out a stifled groan at the feeling: I will never be able to get over how good it feels to enter something like that. “Especially when you’re the one making the first move.”

“Oh  _god_ …” I moan, dropping my head to the pillow. I was right even in my dream: this feels incredible. It’s a whole new… well,  _angle_ , to be crude. It feels so different from the other ways that we’ve have sex. I can see why Dan would want to do this again, and why my body would subconsciously want to as well, I suppose.

He starts to rock himself on me, pleasing the both of us, and with every downward motion we both start to expel short little sigh-like moans. When I raise my head from the bed again, and lay my hands on Dan’s hips, I notice how he’s not just  _bouncing_ of sorts on top of me, but he’s rather  _rolling_  his hips, back and forth, and it makes his back arch and his… well, to be crude, his  _cock_ swing helplessly, already leaking. He must really like this.

“How are you so good at this?” I ask him, curiously intrigued. Dan doesn’t answer me, but surprisingly he does start to blush. “Daniel Howell, have you been  _practising_  this for me?”

This blush, even in this lack of light, only gets worse. “Hmm.. Yeah…” he admits quietly - timidly.

It makes me smile. It makes me want to know more. “Tell me about it,” I press him. “Give me details.”

Strangely, despite his shy blush, Dan obliges me. “I used to -  _ugh_  - used to fuck myself on a dildo, on this bed, and pretend it was you -  _fuck_  - and sometimes I wouldn’t touch myself, no matter how hard I was, trying to make myself come without it.” His face scrunches up a little, but I know it isn’t a cringe. “I thought… I thought it might impress you…”

That, strangely enough, actually tugs at my heart. I reach my hand up to him invitingly. “Come here,” I ask of him kindly, and Dan obeys: he leans his body down, resting his weight on his hands, and I wrap my hand round his neck and pull him in for a gentle kiss. “Of course it impresses me - you’ve impressed me in so many ways already.” Dan smiles like a child at my words. “Now…” I sing, reaching my other hand between our bodies and wrapping my fingers around his desperate little cock - at which, he gasps. “Don’t stress yourself about things like that tonight. Just let yourself feel good, okay?”

I begin to stroke him gently, keeping in time with his… his movements, I guess. Dan ducks his head into my neck and starts to moan helplessly, breathlessly, almost like he’s whimpering. He tucks his hands under my head and wraps his arms around me, hugging closer to me, as he continues to work me - wait, is he working  _me_ , or working  _himself_? I honestly don’t know. I think it’s just mutual at this point. I like it like that: it makes us equal.

“Dan…” I moan out, starting to rock my hips up unconsciously into him. “Fuck, this… you’re too good..”

When I have my eyes open, I can see along the stretch of Dan’s back, exposed, arching beautifully as he rocks himself on me, and the sound of his breathless pants fill my ear where he has buried his face. He’s quietly moaning my name, too, which I can hear very well from here. It’s like every moan that he makes is a failed attempt at calling my name, and I like that idea.

“Dan,” I call him, bringing my hand to his neck. “Want… want to see your face… when you come…”

He obliges me, pushing himself up slightly, after which I tighten my hold on the back of his neck and rest our foreheads together. We begin to pant into each other’s mouths and I don’t mind it. From here, though Dan’s eyes are closed, I can see exactly how pleasured he is: his eyebrows have converged and twitch subtly, his eyes are squeezed tightly, and his mouth is gaped open in his breathlessness. And judging by the light blush on his cheeks, I think he’s keeping his eyes closed out of shyness that I’m looking at him. But why shouldn’t I? This sight is beautiful.

“Phil…” he whines, his body starting to tremble. “I can't… I'll…”

“Okay,” I soothe him. “Go on.”

I work my hand on him faster, desperate to make him come, and Dan starts to whine in that high-pitched way he does when he’s getting close.

“Phil, I…  _fuck…_  I love you…” he pants out. “I love you…”

Unable to help myself, losing myself, I find my body responding. “ _Fuck,_ I…. Dan, I… I…”

He lets out a sudden cry and his body stills, practically vibrating, and he whines as he comes. The feeling of him clenching unconsciously around me makes me gasp in pleasure, and after a few more thrusts into this new tightness I’m also brought over the edge, gripping his neck tightly and groaning between us. My chest feels unusually tight this time.

Dan falls on top of me, gasping for breath, exhausted, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him close. I always like the affection we share afterwards.

“You…” Dan tries to pant out in a whisper - I had forgotten it was the middle of the night. “You came inside me…”

My heart leaps into my throat. “Oh  _fuck_ , I didn’t wear a condom?!” How stupid! How unsafe!

Dan just chuckles breathily and squeezes his arms around my back to reassure me. “It’s okay, I’m not worried. I actually like it.” He sways his hips sleepily over mine. “It feels special. It’s like you’ve claimed me.” Strangely, to my own surprise, those words don’t gross me out. I’m actually intrigued by the concept of  _owning_  Dan, and keeping him all to myself. But maybe that’s just his influence on me.

“I wanted to tell you, by the way,” Dan continues. “I only touched you, when you were asleep, because you were already hard. I thought you might like it.” Then, in shame, he buries his face into my shoulder. “I wasn’t trying to be weird.”

I chuckle and thread my fingers reassuringly through his hair. “Dan, it’s okay. Don’t apologise. I actually… kinda liked it.”

His head snaps up at that, his eyes wide. “Really?! You liked it?”

I show him a soft smile. “Love…” Even from where I am, I feel his heart skip a beat. “If I’d hated it, would we just have had sex?”

Dan just stares at me - his typical blush blossoming on his cheeks.

With nothing more to say, I wordlessly pull Dan into me for a snug hug, and he purrs at the gesture.

“I love you,” he sighs happily. Then he tenses slightly. “Can I hear you say it?”

I force him back. “What?”

He shows me a pout, but it’s unnecessary: I already know how desperate he must be by now. “Just once. I just want to finally hear you say it, even if you don’t mean it yet. Just…  _please_ … tell me you love me. Let me hear you say those words.” Then, he shows me a soft smile. “That will satisfy me for ages.”

Truthfully, I really consider his words.

I tighten my hold around his torso, pulling him slightly closer, until our lips are almost touching. “Dan…” I try to say - instantly, knowing my plan, my throat dries quickly up and tries to take away my voice. But, determined, I persist. My heart flutters nervously in my chest even as the words are formed in anticipation in my throat. It feels terrifying: like I’ll either vomit or blossom. I swallow, trying to moisten my throat, and force the shape of the words on my lips.

“I love you.”

Strange. They seem to fall straight out from my tongue, like jenga, like I wasn’t in control, like the words weren’t truly consciously chosen.

I see Dan’s eyes brighten with more joy than I’ve ever seen on his face before, and it makes my heart flutter with pride.

“I love you,” I tell him again. My fingers are shaking, so I hold him tighter. “Dan Howell, I really love you.”

I think he’s starting to cry. “I know,” he gasps out. “I’ve always known.” He buries himself into my chest and lets out a long sigh - or just a well-needed breath-out. “I really needed to hear that.” He hugs me gratefully. “Thank you.”

For now, I let him have his moment. I need to think this moment over a hundred times.

_Phil falls asleep soon after - Dan can always tell, because when he kisses him, even just on the cheek, Phil always reacts unless he’s out cold._

_Now alone, Dan climbs quietly out of his bed, puts on some warm clothes, and heads out into the corridor. He creeps silently to the neighbouring room and carefully, quietly, unlocks the door, creaks it open, and slips inside._

_On the inside, he already hears a body shuffling -_ oh good,  _Dan thinks_ , he really is awake already  _\- and he loudly locks the door. There are two locks, separate, one on each side. He installed a few of them at Phil’s house when he was asleep. He might as well do something productive with his time, instead of laying in Phil’s arms for hours without a wink of sleep._

_He sneaks over to the side of the bed to grab the small reading lamp off the table and kneels down in front of the loudly-breathing body before him. Then he turns on the light, and Peej’s terrified, blindfolded and gagged face appears in blue in front of him._

_“Hello,” Dan whispers with a tuneful tone. Peej’s body tenses up completely - he must recognise the voice. “Aren’t you happy to see me again?”_

_Peej doesn’t answer._

_Slowly and cautiously, Dan reaches his hands round to the back of Peej’s head and unties his blindfold, withdrawing it from his eyes. The front of it feels very wet._

_Dan can’t help but chuckle. “Look at this,” he cries. “Look at you. You used to be to brave. You used to glare at me - I remember that vividly.” He cocks his head patronisingly. “And now look: you tremble and cry before you’ve even seen me.”_

_Peej, probably ashamed, or scared, averts his eyes._

_Dan brings a gentle hand to Peej’s jaw and guides his head back round to face him - and he notices his heartbeat quicken ever-so-subtly at that action: he has a sharp eye._

_At that, Dan smirks. “You’ve gone mad, haven’t you?” he teases. “Why else would you react like this?” He stares at this hostage’s face - watchfully - for a while before speaking again. “You remind me of Phil.”_

_Then he leans forwards, pulling Peej’s head slightly closer, so that his mouth is next to his ear._

_“Your little secret hasn’t gone unnoticed,” he whispers. Peej lets out a hiccup into his gag, making Dan grin. “Don’t worry: Phil doesn’t know. I haven’t told him. I could, you know?” Peej whines sharply, painfully, obviously wanting to deter him. “It’s alright. I’m not going to tell him anything. That offer I gave you before you left, a week ago, of doing you any favour you ask, I can take it now, and Phil won’t ever be told a thing.” He pulls away so that Peej can see him, in this faint blue light. “Do you want that?”_

_Unwaveringly, Peej nods his head._

_Dan isn’t surprised. “Okay then. But this only means I won’t tell him: he can still find out in his own way, remember, if you aren’t careful about this.” Peej slowly and hesitantly nods, understanding. Then Dan smiles kindly. “You see? I’m not that bad, am I? Not when you behave.” His grip’s pressure pulses for an instant. “I didn’t lie when I told you that.”_

_After a moment of silence, when Dan runs out of things to say, he decides to slip his fingers round the makeshift gag suggestively. “You know you can’t cry out, don’t you?” Peej nods obediently. So Dan pulls down the cloth, granting him a proper voice._

_Briefly, Peej coughs, and Dan ignores the saliva that stains the gag._

_“Why did you bring him here?” he asks in a quiet, nervous whisper. “Why not only me? No - why not just approach us when you saw us together?”_

_Dan scoffs. “I wanted to introduce myself properly.” He smirks. “And to initiate him into this little world of ours.”_

_Previously, that may have made Peej bitter and mad, but he doesn’t react this time. “I didn’t want to involve him in all of this,” he cries. “I didn’t want him to know… about…” His throat seizes up like it’s being squeezed, so he doesn’t continue._

_Then he does something that surprises even Dan._

_“Thank you,” he mumbles shyly. “For not hurting him. I’m grateful.”_

_Dan is shocked to silence. Then he lets out an uncontrollable laugh which he has to try and stifle. “You’ve really lost your mind, haven’t you?” he laughs._

_Peej just sits there, defeated. “I guess I have…” he sighs._

_Dan doesn’t say anything. Peej doesn’t say anything, either. Dan watches Peej, but Peej doesn’t bring himself to look at Dan - his captor, once again._

_“Phil said he loves me,” Dan excitedly blurts out. Peej doesn’t react. “You heard him, right?”_

_At that, Peej flushes red - Dan can feel it more than see it._

_“I gave you Phil’s old pills, in your water,” he admits. “To keep you awake. Chris, I sedated - I didn’t think he’d be ready for that.” He grins. “And it worked.”_

_“Stop it,” Peej whines in discomfort. “Why are you really here? Why would you want to talk to me, at a time like this? To gloat? To upset me? Or is that what you came to tell me - that Phil finally loves you?”_

_Dan straightens his back. He knows the words aren’t malicious or aggressive in any way - no, they’re nothing more than defeatist. “I came to have a chat, that’s all,” he reassures him. “There were a few things on my mind. And, also, one more thing.”_

_He tugs Peej forwards by his jaw and forces their lips together - Peej yelps against him but can’t do anything else. Dan pulls back immediately after._

_“What the fuck was that for?!” Peej cries._

_Dan just wipes his mouth. “Why do you think I kissed you the first time? Because you had his kiss on you.”_

_At those words, Peej’s eyes go wide, and his face flushes white._

_“You thought no one would see,” he sneers. “And he wouldn’t remember. But my memory is well intact from that night.”_

_His grip suddenly tightens hard on his hostage’s jaw, as a warning._

_“Don’t use him for your pathetic, selfish needs.”_

_Peej gulps, trembling, in Dan’s hold._

_Then he lets him go._

_“I always knew,” Dan tells him, quieter this time. “Right when I first met you. I knew exactly what you were. That’s why I never liked you.”_

_Strangely, Peej speaks up. “Because you’re possessive?” he spits back. “I wasn’t holding any claim. You’re deluded - that’s what I’ve always known about you.”_

_Dan huffs at that. “I prefer you when you’re terrified of me.”_

_Peej, despite this situation, doesn’t cower away: he isn’t being too forceful, though, just unusually brave. “You’ve worked so hard to remove me from his life. But I’m still here. That’s the thing with sand: when you’re wet, it sticks.” He forces his face into a glare. “So good luck washing me off.”_

_Dan doesn’t back down. “You know, when a tide is strong enough, it drags the whole beach away.” He shoves his face intimidatingly in front of his opponent’s. “You rock me enough, and I will take great pleasure in taking your life away.”_

_At those words, against his best efforts, his aggression falters, and patches of fear start to break through. But he holds it together. “If my death will bring your downfall, then I’ll gladly take that fall.”_

_Dan simply laughs. “Don’t play dumb. It would never be so quick. I’d make sure to take extra care when making you suffer. Keep going, and I could end your life here - tonight. I’ll even wake the whole house for it.”_

_Peej’s body trembles with absolute terror under Dan’s powerful glare: there’s no way he hasn’t noticed. He takes a deep breath. “I know you better than you think,” he whispers. “You’re not really that kind of person. All this… it’s just an act. I should know: I’m good at that now.”_

_Dan’s face twitches with pure spite, but he decides to let this go - he pulls himself away and kneels up, staring down at him._

_“Don’t you fucking dare,” he seethes. “You’re only alive because of me. Don’t pretend you’re not.”_

_When Peej doesn’t say anything, Dan decides to bring their conversation to an end: he shoves the gag back into his mouth, but leaves the blindfold off._

_“You can pretend,” he continues, “that you still matter to Phil. But the only reason that he cared about you yesterday was because you were scared - your identity had nothing to do with it. If you truly meant that much to him, he wouldn’t have punished you like he did. And,” he smirks, “he would have wanted see you again. You think I kept him from you? He didn’t even mention you once.”_

_At that, Peej’s eyes turn pitifully sad, and he lets out a hopeless whine._

_“From now on, I’ll keep him far away from you. Now that I know he can forget about you.”_

_As Dan stands up, turns off the light, and walks to the door, he hears Peej start to cry quietly into the lonely room. It must be the restraints, he thinks, that make him act so weak._

In the morning, Dan cooks everyone a breakfast of bacon and eggs - it feels strange, after always having pancakes, but I eat it all regardless.

Then we pack the car together: Chris and Peej get to stay together in the back seats this time, though are still heavily restrained. Dan grants them this kindness, and I’m thankful for it.

We play muse’s latest album in the car the whole way - it’s one of the things me and Dan bonded over, at the start. How long has it been now? Almost two months since he showed up at my house? At the same time, that feels too long, but also way too short. It seems my time spent with Dan becomes endless, like a dream, and I don’t know how long I have left until I wake up. I fear waking up, if that’s what happens.

I end up sleeping most of the way - the drive is going to take hours, after all.

Dan wakes me up once we reach Peej’s house - no, that’s not his. I don’t recognise it.

“Come on,” Dan groans, climbing out of the car - he really needs to stretch his legs after a drive like that. “This is their stop.”

“Both of them?” I call back, getting out of the car with him.

Dan nods as he swings the car door beside Peej open. “This is the house that Peej went to, to talk to Chris. It’s probably Chris’ home, but I don’t know for sure.”

I follow his lead: I open the door and start to remove Chris’ restraints, starting with the blindfold. He sits obediently still as I do, and I’m grateful for that. If he was anything like Peej, I wouldn’t have been happy. I pull off his gag next, then push him forwards to unlock his cuffs. Once done, I step away from the door and let him go. And, slowly and carefully, he does.

As soon as they - both Peej and Chris - are freed, they surprise me: they run straight for each other and hug the other tightly. I even think they start to cry.

“I’m so happy you’re okay!” Peej gasps out, gripping Chris’ shirt tightly. “I’m so sorry.”

“I-it’s alright,” Chris timidly responds. “I’m alright.”

“Come on,” Dan calls to me, getting back into the car. “It’s time we went home, too.”

For a moment, I don’t move. I watch Peej and Chris. It makes my chest tighten longingly. I want to go over and apologise to them both for what’s been done to them - for what  _I_ did to Peej. At the same time, I want to be in a situation like that, of utter relief and elation in the arms of someone else. Isn’t it strange, to be jealous of a victim?

I leave them, getting back into the car with Dan, and letting him drive us both away.

“I’m really proud of you,” he tells me suddenly. “For what you did to Peej.”

Shame stirs in my belly, and I refuse to acknowledge Dan for that.

“Don’t tell me you regret it?”

I don’t respond.

For a while, neither does he.

“He’s a bad person, you know?” Dan reverts to telling me. “You care about him because you think he’s more innocent than he really is. I bet he told you that he tried to contact you, during the week, and that I’d stopped him. But I promised you that I’d let him visit, because I knew you cared about it. I may lie sometimes, but I don’t break my promises.”

I keep quiet. There’s nothing for me to say to that.

“He didn’t,” he exclaims sharply. “There were never any calls, or texts, or knocks on the door. He left you with me whilst he spent time with Chris. He wanted to get you out, until it became too much effort. Maybe he only pretended to care before because he was stuck with us, and he only cared about saving his own life.” Surprisingly, Dan lets out a long sigh. “If you believe him over me, then I don’t think we’re ready to be a proper couple.”

At those words, my heart sinks and starts to pound in fear. I don’t want to go back to what we were before.

Dan reaches his hand from the gear stick over to mine and slips his fingers between my own - a loving, not threatening gesture.

“So,” he says softly. “Who do you believe?”

Quietly, I gulp.

“You. Of course I believe you. You’re my boyfriend.” I squeeze his hand gently. “And I trust you.”

Dan smiles sweetly - satisfied - and moves his hand away again.

 


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, brief mentions of violence, pre-smut (hints of non-con)**

Dan doesn’t take us straight home after letting Chris and Peej go - instead, he drives us into Manchester city centre.

I’m still sleepy by the time I realise this: I’ve been falling in out of sleep for the entire journey. It makes me wonder how Dan has stayed awake for all these hours.

“Dan…” I groan to him quietly. “Where are we going?”

He keeps his eyes fixed on the road, which means there are long delays before he answers me. I don’t complain, though: I’d rather not crash. “I want to take you out tonight,” he answers. “To make up for ruining our London trip with drama, and to reward you for your work last night.”

I slouch at the mention, wishing Dan would stop bringing it up.

I want to apologise to Peej, now, for what I put him through. It’s not just the scar, but the terror he must have felt - and all because of me, not Dan this time. I want to treat his wound properly and help it heal. But I don’t think Peej will let me anywhere near him after what I did.

Dan drives us into the high street, parks up, and we finally - after  _hours_  of driving - get out onto our feet. We have a little stretch (calves, thighs, ankles, backs, arms, wrists and necks) before we start to walk, with Dan leading the way and me following along after him.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask him curiously. “Because if it’s anywhere fancy, we both look like crap at the moment.”

Dan gives me a little chuckle. “We’re not going somewhere fancy,” he reassures me. “We’re just going for coffee - well, and lunch.”

For some reason, that makes me feel a little unsettled - not with Dan, but with myself.

_I sit in the coffee shop, my knees bouncing excitedly under the table, as I wait. I don’t know why I’m so excited until I see him, walking through the door. His eyes catch mine, and we both smile with happiness that is impossible to suppress._

Right. My old dream.

Our situation is far closer to that than I ever thought it could be, since I initially dreamed it. Originally, I’d thought it was a scene from an alternative reality where me and Dan had come together normally. But maybe it wasn’t that at all - it was merely a dream of the future.

The thought, strangely, makes me shiver.

“I promise not to ruin it this time,” Dan sighs, catching my attention again. I look over at him, as we walk, but he isn’t looking at me - he’s looking down. “I swear: there isn’t another motive behind this, not like London. I just want to spend some time with you, outside of the house.” Then he raises his head to me, and shows me a childlike smile - his eyes almost seen to shine with happiness. “I want to go on a date… with you.”

Dan’s shyness at such a request, after everything we’ve done together, warms my heart. I still forget that, under all his strangeness, this boy is completely infatuated with me. At this point in our relationship, I’m more than happy to appease such requests from him.

“Alright,” I answer him happily. “I’d like that.”

He takes us into Starbucks and I take my seat as Dan orders for us both - he’s offered to pay too, which is nice of him. It makes me wonder where he gets all his money from.

“Oh - that reminds me,” Dan cries suddenly as he’s searching through his bag for his wallet. In his other hand, he pulls out something small and holds it out to me. It’s my phone. “Sorry to keep it from you. I was anxious. But you deserve it now.”

I take it gratefully, staring at it like it’s new. I haven’t seen my phone in a very long time.

He gets us both a warm drink, from the Christmas menu, and my heart leaps into my throat at the realisation: it’s Christmas soon. I take my phone out, now that I finally have it back, and check the date: 15th December. My chest and stomach start to feel funny, like they used to at Christmas time when I was far younger.

“Dan…?” I start, getting his attention. “It’s mid-December now. Christmas is coming up soon, and… and what’s going to happen?”

Dan stares at me, wordless, for a long moment, which only worries me. His eyes are wide, and it looks like he wants to say something - like he’s desperate to, actually - but he can’t quite get it out. He takes a sharp, deep breath, and opens his mouth.

“Spend it with me,” he blurts out. Then he sinks timidly into his chair. “I want to spend Christmas with you. I really, really do. It was one of my first ever fantasies about you.”

He looks shyly away from me and I notice his shoulders starting to hunch over slightly - that’s a nervous thing, I can recognise it right away.

“I used to dream about us spending Christmas together, just the two of us. It didn’t matter whose house we were in. We would wear matching jumpers and drink hot chocolate together, and you’d open my presents, and you’d hug me in thanks, and we’d cuddle up by the fire, sharing a blanket, and watch Doctor Who.” Dan brings his hands together in his lap and starts fumbling his fingers together nervously. “Sometimes I got a little carried away with that one,” he mutters quietly. “But I knew it would be special, because you love Christmas.”

That’s still true, actually, even nowadays. Since I went off to university four years ago, I haven’t spent Christmas with my family. I’ve only ever spent one alone, but every year I’ve still made an effort - I decorated the house, set up the tree in the living room, I even bought presents for the family. I was idle, so I bought them loads. Michael did show, for the first three. He probably came to see the parents, really, as much as he always insisted he came to see me.

Why wouldn’t we spend this Christmas together? Neither of us have any family to spend it with. Realistically, this was always going to happen. Besides: I couldn’t dare send Dan home alone at a time like this, not to that barren house.

Oh. He was fifteen when his family disappeared. How many Christmases does that mean he’s had alone? Three or four? At least I disliked my parents so much that I didn’t miss them.

After a quick glance around the shop, I slip my hands under the table and wrap my fingers round Dan’s, giving them a reassuring squeeze as I shoot him a smile.

“Of course I’ll spend Christmas with you,” I hum happily. “I want that, too.”

Dan’s face brightens at my words.

Our drinks are brought over soon after, so conversation is dropped as we dig in.

“Oh my god,” I moan as I try my drink. “This is amazing!”

Dan lets out a laugh at my reaction. “Really? That good?”

“Yes! It tastes like actual snow,” I tease. “Just without the yellow bits.”

His face scrunches up at that. “Gross! Don’t ruin my drink! It was expensive!”

I stick my tongue out at him childishly. Then I put my drink down and hum, with something curious on my mind. “I was thinking about that, actually,” I hum as Dan continues to sip at his drink. “Where do you get all this money from? You must have needed hundreds since your parents left - food, driving lessons - hell, the car and insurance costs enough!” Dan glances to me briefly, then looks away. He seems shy about this, for some reason, which only makes my curiosity grow. “Where does your money come from?”

An awkward silence builds between us for a moment, and I start to regret asking.

“I’m sorry - ”

“No, it’s okay,” Dan interrupts, placing his drink down and sitting back in his chair. “It’s nothing bad, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just don’t like talking about myself when you’re here instead.”

I think that was meant to be a compliment.

“I’ve had a savings account since I was very young - my parents made me one because of all my show biz work - and when they left, they moved all that money into my current account: my debit card, that is.”

“Oh,” I hum.

“I had to spend my savings to keep myself alive for the first year, which didn’t go too well. Then, when I turned sixteen, I was able to get a proper job, and things got better. And since I’m on a gap year, I’ve been working loads to save up for meeting you. I’ve learnt to budget in three years.”

My mind goes blank for anything to say to all of that, so I just nod my head.

Dan’s been working? Why does that seem like such a surprise to me? When has he had time to do that?

“Initially,” Dan continues, drawing my attention back to him. “I was still working when I came to see you. That’s why I couldn’t stay for long. But once you started becoming a problem, I realised I had to stay with you. So I quit.”

My eyes widen. He has no income now?

“How are you paying for things like this then?!” I cry out.

Dan finally catches my eye properly. He doesn’t look so shy about this anymore.

“I’m just working through my funds at the moment,” he answers, making it sound not-at-all terrifying. “Once I get a job around here, I’ll be able to get on top of things again.”

At that, I can only blink. “You what?” I struggle out. “You’re looking for a job here? In Manchester?”

He smiles. “Of course. I live here now.” That makes my chest tighten. “And I will do for a long time, with uni and you and everything.” He takes my hands for himself, this time, under the table, and starts to stroke his thumbs gently along the backs. “I wouldn’t do it if I wasn’t confident about it, okay? So relax. I love treating you.” He squeezes them lovingly. “It makes me feel special to you.”

At those words, I drop my head down to keep my face out of his view, as a warm blush spreads across my cheeks. He needs to stop doing that. It feels weird, for someone my age to blush so childishly like this.

Food comes now, so we stop talking and eat up instead. We don’t eat much, though. Breakfast wasn’t exactly big, but I’m still hungry after this lunch. It makes me wonder if Dan is up to something - in a good way, of course.

He leads us out onto the street again once lunch is over.

“Are we going home now?” I ask him. I’m still tired from the drive today - and our little thing in the middle of the night - so I’m desperate to get back now. But it was nice of Dan to take me out like that, especially when he’s strapped for cash like he is.

“Sure,” Dan hums back. “If that’s what you want. But…” he starts, voice dropping to a whisper, as he shuffles closer to me until our shoulders are touching. “First… I want to take a walk with you, and look at Manchester. I came here to see you in such a rush, I never got to properly see it.”

His arm slips under mine, bringing us slightly closer, and his hand carefully slides into mine, hidden by the long sleeves of our coats. I feel my heart pound at the gesture, but I don’t dare pull away. His fingers squeeze mine tightly, sweetly, and I find myself tightening my hold on his too. I keep my head down as a blush rushes to my cheeks. We’re outside, in the public eye right now, and we’re holding hands. We’re being affectionate and people could see. God, Dan is so brave.

“You talked about the Eye before, right?” he whispers between us, as though to further the feeling of us sharing a secret moment out here. “Like the one in London. Is that true?”

I swallow nervously, struggling to keep myself together. I feel conflicted: if I loosen my hold of his hand, I might not be able to stay grounded right now; but, at the same time, if I keep holding on, people with see. I need security right now - and my security is Dan. So I hold on tightly.

“Yeah,” I answer breathlessly, my throat feeling dry. “The Manchester Eye. It’s not as big as the London one, though.”

Dan hums happily at the thought of it. “I want to see it sometime.” His thumb slips out and runs softly along the back of my hand - a sensation that makes me feel all too sensitive in this moment. “With you.”

“ _Excuse me, sorry!_ ” A stranger’s voice calls from behind us. We turn around straight away and I yank my hand, panicked, out of Dan’s grip. I don’t dare to look at him for a reaction - I can’t know if that will upset him. I’ve guessed that he wants me to grow more confidently showing our relationship outside of the house’s walls, but I don’t know if that’s something that will frustrate him yet. “Sorry to bother you - ” It’s a couple of teenagers - one a girl, one a boy. I don’t recognise them. I wonder if they’re here for Dan. “ - But aren’t you Phil?”

My heart leaps into my throat.  _What?_  “E-excuse me?” I stutter out, confused.

“Yeah,” the other says timidly, ringing his hands together. The first one has her shirt sleeves stretched shyly over her hands. “AmazingPhil, from YouTube. Are you really him?”

My jaw drops down. This has never happened before. I-I’m just Phil - I’m  _no-one_! How does someone recognise me like this off the street?!

I shoot my eyes to Dan, needing validation in this strange situation, when I realise that he’s exactly the same as the kids before me. He found my videos, and watched them, and I became something to him, someone worth recognising and approaching.

People… people  _like me?_

“Umm…” I struggle out. “Yeah, I’m Phil.” I look back to them, and, now that I’ve confirmed it, their young eyes go wide. They glance to each other, their faces beaming with smiles, and they practically start to bounce.

“Oh my god - I never thought we’d actually meet you!” The first one cries.

“Could we get a photo?”  The second has started to blush - I think he’s nervous to see me. “Please?”

This feels weird. I don’t know if I like it.

But then again, isn’t this what Dan used to be like? Actually, has he really changed in that way?

“Umm, excuse me,” the girls asks him. I glance over to him, and his eyes are wide. Apart from that, his current emotions aren’t obvious. I think he’s trying to hide them. He stares back at her expectantly. “Would you be able to take the photo for us, please?” She holds her phone out to him.

Dan doesn’t move for a moment. He just stares at her hand. Then at her. His expression doesn’t change.

“Don’t worry, dear!” A woman comes running down the road behind them - I’m assuming that’s a mum. She takes the phone out of the girl’s hand for herself. “I’ll take it for you, so you can all get in!”

The kids don’t seem as excited for that.

I wrap my arm around Dan’s shoulder and pull him into me, hoping this might cheer him up. “This is Dan - danisnotonfire. He was in a video with me a few weeks ago. Don’t you remember?”

They stare at him. Then they start to smile. I can tell they don’t recognise him.

“Oh, okay!” they cry, taking their places next to us - next to me, actually. I hook my other arm round the boy’s shoulder and smile for the camera. I hope Dan manages a smile, though I know, if I were in his position right now, I would struggle too.

“Thank you!” All three of them cry.

“Wait,” I cry before they all leave. I slip my phone out of my pocket and hold it out to the mum. “Could you… maybe… take a photo for me, as well? I’ve never met any fans of mine before.”

She smiles and happily takes another photo for me, and then they all leave.

Once we’re alone again, I press my shoulder into Dan’s and slips our fingers together again, hoping to make him feel better. “Are you okay?” I ask him quietly. I realise my fingers are shaking: adrenaline, I guess. It still doesn’t feel real.

Dan just hums back and starts walking, holding my hand tightly. “Let’s just get to the car.”

Before we get there, we bump into another pair of fans, and this time Dan steps out to take the photo. These two don’t seem to recognise him, either. I suppose it makes sense - he’s only collabed with me once, and apart from that, his presence of YouTube is very insignificant. Perhaps he’s upset for another reason instead.

With the interruptions, I don’t realise that Dan isn’t walking us to the car anymore - we’re heading deeper into the centre. I know where he’s taking us - to Piccadilly Gardens. Home to the Big Wheel. Or, as I’ve always called it, the Manchester Eye.

There’s a water attraction here, too, with small waterfalls that I think stop running through the night. I think there are lights installed in there as well. There’s also a huge field beside it, framed by all the busy high street buildings. It must be beautiful here at night. I’m curious to come here, now, when it’s abandoned, and see for myself.

But, right now, it’s packed with people. Dan doesn’t hold my hand anymore. He hasn’t since the second load of fans appeared.

I haven’t dared say a word about that.

The walk, by this point, has taken over forty minutes, and it’s reaching five o'clock (we had a  _very_  late lunch).

“Dan,” I ask him carefully, trying to make myself heard over the roar of the crowd. “Where are you taking us now?”

He turns his head to smile, while still walking, and shows me a happy smile - he doesn’t seemed as concerned with the fan thing anymore, and that relieves me greatly. “To ‘Spoons,” he answers. “I thought you’d like some dinner, and a drink.”

For a moment, I just stare at him, trying to understand. “What exactly are you up to right now, Howell?”

He laughs breathily. “Nothing! I just like spending a day out with you for once. You were the one who kept begging for it, remember?”

_I try to be more direct. “Do you think we could have dinner out tonight?” Dan shakes his head: too expensive, he’ll say, or he’ll claim there’s nothing good around - there’s always some excuse._

“That was different…” I mumble nervously, wondering if it’s okay to say this now. “I just wanted to get the…” I revise that, aware of the number of ears that could hear us. “… I wanted to get out of that bed. That’s all I really said it for.”

Dan doesn’t say anything to that. He turns his head back around.

I lay my hand quickly on his shoulder. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want to go out with you like this,” I cry back. “The truth is, I really do.”

I tilt my head to the side, sneaking a peek at his face: and, to my relief, Dan starts to smile again.

In Wetherspoons, I pass up the opportunity for alcohol - it never seems to go well for me when I risk it, so I’ll keep my distance from now on. Dan doesn’t get any either: he still has to drive us home. I realise I haven’t actually been in a Wetherspoons before, not even when I was younger, but it feels awfully familiar to the place that Dan took me before, whilst Peej was still with us. I shiver when I think of what happened that night. It was wild and impulsive, but I hadn’t enjoyed myself like in a very long time. I still don’t regret it.

Should I be telling Dan things like that, out of blue? Would he like to hear it? Or does he figure them out for himself? In truth, I’m still quite shy about confessing to such things like that. It still feels like I shouldn’t like them, like I’m betraying something in some way.

I wonder, then, about something I haven’t thought too deeply about for a very long time.

“Dan,” I ask, getting his attention before our food arrives.

He raises his eyebrows and lowers his drink. “What it is?” He’s frowning slightly, watching me carefully. “You look… worried about something.”

I suppose he’s right. He’s certainly good at reading me now.

“It’s just…” I struggle to find the right words. “When I try to remember the first night you came here, to my house, it’s all a blur.” He freezes then. “What happened that night?”

His eyes seem to widen, and he watches me  _very_ carefully. “Well… how much do you remember?”

I think about that. Then I frown. “Nothing, really. I can’t even remember what you told Peej, but I remember that wasn’t the truth.”

“Hey,” Dan calls, leaning closer to me. “Don’t stress about it like that. Nothing bad happened.” Then he shows me a smile. “I told Peej that we spent the week in Manchester together. As friends. But, in reality, you’d gotten seriously drunk.”

Oh, crap. So that’s why I can’t remember.

“You had a headache in the morning, remember?”

Subconsciously, without thinking about it, my hand reaches up to my head and gently skims the area where I’m sure a bruise used to be.

Dan catches on to that, and reaches over the table to pull my hand away. It must have healed by now,  _surely_. But how did I get it?

“You’d started drinking quite early, that day, and you begged me to come over. So I did. I think you were stressing about our argument the night before.”

Ah, I remember that one well.

_“You’re not honest with me,” he continued. “There’s something you’re not entirely truthful about. And I want to know what it is.”_

_I tried to open my mouth and say something - but there was nothing for me to say._

_Dan’s eyes welled up. “This isn’t fair, you know. I fucking dream about you and you dismiss me. I was happy for once. Aren’t you happy when we spend time together?”_

_Finally, I found the courage to speak again. “Of course I am! No one’s ever been closer to me than you.”_

_“Then act like it!” Dan yelled. Then he sighed, and lowered his head. “I think I’ll just go…”_

_I swallowed down my awkwardness. “No, Dan, please - ”_

I shiver involuntarily at the memory. I had been too harsh on him, before. But maybe I only think that because I would never have dared such an argument since then.

“We stayed in the house, actually -  _your_ house - until you fell asleep. I remember that night well.” Dan says that with a sudden smile. “You  _really_  lose your boundaries to alcohol. You confessed to me that night.” My eyes widen. I did  _what_? “You told me that you liked me, that you had for a while. You even asked to kiss me.” His smile gets wider. “And I let you. It was the happiest I’d been in a while. So how could I leave you, and go home, after that?”

I do understand that - why he’d stay. He’d liked me for so long, and suddenly his dreams appear within his reach? I don’t blame him for staying.

“I only tied you up…” Dan says that in a low whisper. “… Because I was scared to lose you. Sober, you didn’t even seem to like me. So I had to get you to accept these feelings, because I knew that’s what you’d want.” He leans slightly closer to me still. “Are you satisfied? Does that answer your question?”

I sigh and show him a smile. “Yes,” I hum. “Thank you.”

By the time we make our way home, it’s already dark, and I’m exhausted again. I curl up on the seat as Dan drives us both back, feet on the chair, knees tucked into my chest, and my head resting gently against the window. I feel the car stop, and I don’t pain myself to open my eyes because I know we’re home.

Strangely, Dan’s hand reaches round my head and strokes my cheek lightly.

“Phil,” he whispers softly. “You’re not asleep, are you?”

I groan and twist in my place. “’M too tired to move,” I groan back, getting myself comfortable again. “Let’s stay here and sleep.”

Dan lets out a little chuckle at that. “But you’ve been sleeping all day.”

I feel his fingers slip down from my cheek, down my neck, and collar, until he’s reached my shirt. Then, he starts to toy with the buttons, snapping them slowly apart.

“Hey,” I whine, stirring. “Stop.”

“No,” Dan deadpans. This time, I open my eyes - what on earth is he thinking, right now? I see Dan undo three buttons and reach his head into the gap, pressing his lips to my chest, and I keen at the contact. His hand then falls down to my thigh and starts to stroke my thigh, through my jeans, suggestively.

“Stop it,” I cry. Surely he can’t want sex, right at this moment? We could just get inside for that.

“But I wanna do it here,” he whines back. “I’ve been thinking about it all day long.”

He reaches his hand round my neck and holds my head in front of him, and then he’s bringing me into him and pressing our lips together. I squeal at the action - he’s gotten forceful again. I reach my hand up to try pushing him away, but he grabs my wrist tightly and pins it against the chair. My stomach starts to twist up slightly, and I start to hate this situation.

But I realise, as much as I may hate it, that nothing has changed here. We might have sex more often now, but I haven’t tried to reject him in such a long time that I’d forgotten how persist he is. When I remember what happened the last few times I’ve tried getting him to stop, my body quickly goes limp, and I stop trying. Sex isn’t bad with Dan, anyway, so I don’t know why I complain so much.

Strangely, at that, Dan instantly moves back and pulls a funny face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks me worriedly. “Why are you doing that?”

Tired, I frown, confused. “Doing what?”

“Doing…” He thinks hard about that. “Doing  _nothing_. You’ve never done that before.”

That’s a lie: I’ve done it once before, but I don’t do it usually.

Gently, he brings his hands to my cheeks and raises my head to look at him. “Don’t do that,” he instructs me. “It worries me.”

_Oh_. I get it now. It isn’t my reluctance that Dan doesn’t like about this - it’s my lack of engagement. He wants me to like it.

“I tried to tell you,” I mumble quietly, feeling strange in this unfamiliar scenario. “I’m not in the mood for that right now.”

To my surprise, Dan nods to that. “I understand. I won’t do that again, okay?” He shows me a smile, a hint -  _we’re good, right?_  That’s what he’s trying to say. So I smile back.

He takes me inside after that, and we just go to bed. Nothing else, no words. We just sleep. It’s been a rough weekend: I need a good rest.

 


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: chapters 33 and 34 will be smut-heavy, with BDSM elements. Since these chapters are not entirely crucial to the plot, if you do not wish to read them, you will not miss out on anything.

**WN: strong language, brief mentions of captivity/angst, restraint, smut (restraint, toys)**

For one of the first times, I wake up before Dan does.

He’s lying in my arms again, like he always is, all curled up into my chest. It amazes me that he manages to stay here all through the night. Or, maybe, if his sleeping pattern seems that irregular, he might wake up a lot and move himself back. That actually sounds adorable when I think about it.

I watch him happily, watching his chest rise and fall slowly under the covers. His face is relaxed - like I hardly ever see it - and he looks calm. The room is still with silence. I like it in here. It feels peaceful. I want my life to feel like this all the time.

I push myself out of bed and make my way to the bathroom, washing up quickly and getting myself ready for the day. I wonder how much longer I’ll have to myself before Dan wakes up. He’s really pushed himself lately, with the whole Peej thing. He might need to take this time to catch up and rest his body.

Usually, we wait for each other to wake up before going to get breakfast, but I want to let Dan stay in bed for as long as possible, so I decide not to disturb him. After all, I can handle myself, as much as I haven’t done so lately.

I get myself breakfast once I’ve washed up, then go back to the bedroom to get myself changed.

When I pull out the drawers, I notice that my collection of shirts is looking very sparse. I wonder if Dan has been stealing these, too. So I wander over to his corner (the corner where he lays all his stuff out, bags and clothes, you name it) to sneak a look, just out of curiosity - it’s not like I’d lash out at him for it, I find it an endearing trait of his. What I notice instead is a new bag laying here, hidden by the others, one that I’ve never seen before. It must still be his, though. Has he tucked it away on purpose? Maybe he brought it here from his house, since we were there.

Why do I care so much about this all of a sudden? It’s not like it’s important.

I feel my face start to burn up - the familiar sensation of a rising blush, of embarrassment. Am I getting interested in the small things in Dan’s life? Come to think of it, he never really talks about himself - not when it’s not about me in some way. When he spoke about his family, he seemed really uncomfortable, and he went all shy, and that was something he was desperate to talk about.

Dan still doesn’t quite feel like a boyfriend to me yet. This relationship still feels slanted.

But we’ll get there. I feel so much closer to him now than when we were Skyping together, all those weeks ago. He isn’t a fan to me anymore, or a friend - he’s something far more special.

I open the bag without thinking, simply curious as to what’s inside.

At first sight, I’m shocked.

And then I start to smile.

By the time Dan wakes up, it’s practically lunchtime. I’ve been downstairs, watching TV to distract myself. I’m too restless now, after seeing what’s in that bag of his. I’m giddy. So I’ve had to isolate myself, keep my distance, until the time was right.

And now it is, because he’s woken up.

“Phil?” Dan whines from upstairs, sounding confused. I smile to myself and push onto my feet, deciding to go up and see him. “Phil?” he cries louder.  _“Phil! Phil please! I’m scared!”_

My heart starts to race, panicked and confused, and I start to run. Why would Dan freak out like this? Why would he be scared?

I burst into the room to see Dan exactly where I left him: on the bed, arms above his head, cuffed to the bedframe. But why the tears? Why is he scared?

“Phil!” he gasps, jumping up at the sight of me and being tugged back by the restraint. His eyes are wide and, strangely, extremely happy to see me. “I thought you’d left me! I was so scared!”

“Hey,” I try to soothe him, walking over and pressing my lips gently to his. “It’s alright. I’m not going anywhere. It’s okay.”

I feel Dan gradually start to calm down and relax in my hold. “Then why… why the handcuffs?”

I grin at that and decide that it’s okay to continue with my original plan: it’ll cheer Dan up, won’t it?

“Well…” I hum, climbing on top of him and resting my hands on his shoulders. “I had something special in mind for today.” I lean down, until my face is almost touching his, and see Dan gulp in anticipation. “You like being restrained, don’t you?” Dan stays silent for a moment - then, as soon as he nods, his face flushes a deep red and he shifts his eyes away from mine. This reaction of his makes me laugh - he’s so cute.

Kneeling over his hips, I reach my head down and take Dan’s lips against mine confidently, and I don’t hesitate to slip my tongue into his mouth. I feel Dan trying to lift his head up to meet me, trying to work his tongue eagerly against mine, so I reach my hand to his head, gently pushing back the hair from his forehead, and shove it back down to the bed.

I pull quickly away. “I’ve told you,” I huff. “Keep still for me.”

Dan brings his bottom lip between his teeth and lets out a little whine - I can tell he’s enjoying this already. But I can’t judge him - I’m exactly the same. I never thought I’d enjoy this kind of thing as much as I do. Am I weird in that way?

“I found your new bag, Dan, by the way,” I sing, hoping to tease him. At the mention, his eyes go wide. It makes me smile. “You wanted something like this, didn’t you? Isn’t that why you brought all that stuff here? For me?” Dan’s doesn’t answer me - but his cheeks burn bright red. “When were you planning on telling me?”

His eyes keep darting away from mine. “Err…” he struggles. “I don’t know. I was gonna wait for a good time.”

I lean down and take his ear lobe between my teeth, tugging it gently. “Well, I think now is a very good time. Don’t you?”

From this distance, I hear - and practically feel - Dan gulp.

I reach my hand down to his chest - he doesn’t wear a pyjama shirt most of the time, unless it’s too cold - and play my fingers delicately over the sensitive skin beneath. Dan keens at my touch and his body starts to tremble.

“Maybe I should gag you,” I muse, genuinely considering it. “You seemed to like that before. You’re too loud, anyway. You’re not very subtle about it.” I stroke one of his nipples gently with the tip of my finger and Dan lets out a squeal. I laugh at that. “Although, I do like the noises you make. But you can still make them into a gag, can’t you?”

Dan doesn’t answer me. I’m not surprised.

I reach my hand lower, playing my fingers over his stomach, and I keep my mouth close to his ear.

“I’ve never had a proper opportunity to explore you, you know?” I whisper to him. “I’ve wanted to do it for a while now. Your favourite and most sensitive spots are still a mystery to me, and I want to discover them.” I press a gently kiss to his neck, and Dan shivers helplessly. “Even if I have to work through every inch of your body to find them.”

“Phil…” he whines quietly, unable to help himself.

“I already know about your neck,” I continue, brushing my lips over his collar. “And your ears don’t seem that sensitive.  Shall I keep going?”

Dan lets out a long whine. “Phil, please…. wait…”

I pull up and take a proper look at him. His eyes are scrunched closed, and his lips are pressed shut.

I tilt my head. “Are you nervous?”

Trembling, Dan nods his head.

“But I thought you liked this?”

“I do!” he cries, finally opening his eyes for me to see. He looks on the verge of tears. This isn’t the same nervousness that I’ve encountered with him before. This seems… more real. “But I… I can’t help…” He lets out a heavy sigh. “You were right, okay? I like having a bit of control in these situations.” I see his hands clench around the cuffs.

“But… You like submitting to me, don’t you?” I’m confused now. “Don’t you trust me?”

Dan tries to show me a smile. “Of course I do. I want to… I’m just anxious.” He looks away from me again. “I’m sorry…”

Pouting, I cup Dan’s cheek with my hand and give him a gentle kiss, hoping to soothe him. “Hey, it’s okay. There’s nothing to be scared of with me. I’m not going to hurt you. Okay? Do you get that?” Confidently, Dan nods his head.

Slowly, making sure I don’t scare him, I slide myself down Dan’s body until his crotch is before me. “I’ll tell you everything I’m going to do, okay?” Dan watches me carefully as I work my fingers into the hem of his boxers and start tugging them down. “Right now, I’m going to suck you off.” His face instantly turns red - he’s far too cute. “You’re okay with that, aren’t you?” Dan quickly nods his head, not even daring to let me to think otherwise. It makes me smile. “Good.”

I leave his boxers round his thighs - I don’t need them any lower - and I don’t waste any time before wrapping my hand round his cock. Dan lets out a short gasp, so I look up, and he turns his head from me, eyes closed. Bless - he’s going shy on me.

“You can come whenever you need to,” I tell him. “Don’t wait for my permission.” I bring myself closer. “And don’t hide your moans from me. I want you to show me how good you feel.”

He isn’t hard yet - a little, but not very much - but that won’t be a problem. It’s not like Dan has a problem getting it up when he’s with me.

I part my lips confidently and take him into my mouth, and as I start to work, Dan lets out a stuttered whine. I hold him steady with my hand and start to suck him gently, knowing I should take it slow since he isn’t hard yet.

“F… Phil…” Dan cries, his voice already trembling. “Fuck…”

I glance up to him and find he’s staring down at me, eyes wide and fixed on me - well, on what I’m doing. His whole face is overwhelmed by a blush - he really is too shy about these things. As soon as he catches me looking, he whines and quickly turns away.

I pull off him.

“It’s alright,” I reassure him softly. “You can look. I know you like to do that.”

Shyly, Dan looks back to me again - his face is an even deeper red now - and, keeping my eyes locked on his, I close my mouth over him again: just the tip this time, just because he’s watching, and I slip my tongue over his slit - his body jerks at that contact, and he lets out an unexpected cry. I try not to smile around him.

I close my eyes after that to help me focus, despite how much fun it is to watch Dan like that. Besides: listening and feeling are substantial enough senses.

He buckles under me whenever I try stimulating his tip and a cute little whimper will leave his mouth that I don’t think he can help. His breaths quickly turn to short moans, and I think he’s struggling to keep his mouth closed now - which means he’s getting out of breath. I hear the faint sounds of mental clinking every so often, which makes me think his fingers are tightening around his cuffs out of desperation - this is just my imagination, of course, but with a blank canvas in my mind and only sounds to go on, my thoughts can - and  _will_  - go anywhere. I can’t help it. I’m too horny, I guess.

Dan starts to pant out my name, too, which I was more than expecting. It’s like he really can’t stop himself, like it’s on the tip of his tongue and he can’t ever hold it in. It sounds gorgeous like that.

“Phil… fuck, please, Phil…” he cries, his voice turning into a breathless whine. “Please… I’ll - ”

I pull off again, only briefly, deciding to stroke my hand along him quickly so he isn’t starved of contact. I look up at him again - he’s sweating, breathless, and trembling helplessly.

“Don’t tell me,” I remind him. “Just let go for me, babe.”

Dan’s breath seems to catch at that. My heart leaps in my chest. What on earth did I just say? Was that good? Oh god, it’s downright cringey.

I lean my head back down and resume my work, trying to quickly distract myself, and Dan, from whatever that was. I work him quickly - focusing on the tip, having only that in my mouth, running my tongue over every spot of skin that I can reach, and with the rest of him I stroke him quickly with my hand. Dan’s moans get higher, and sharper, and I know he’s about to lose it. His hips start to buck up helplessly, uncontrollably, so I use my other hand to pin them down. Like this, I’m ruthless, working a helpless Dan until he comes.

I wonder, as I taste precum on my tongue, whether or not I’m going to swallow this time.

Dan lets out a loud cry and his cock twitches in my mouth, and suddenly he’s releasing, thigh muscles jerking, hips desperate to push against me. I can practically feel how hot it is for him radiating from his body, and it makes my body sweat - at least, that’s the excuse I give. His mouth lets out a few breathless pants and his handcuffs ring out loudly as he grips them. And through all I this I keep working him, stroking him quickly, milking this orgasm for everything that I can.

He starts to relax, softening in my mouth, but his body still twitches subtly.

Carefully, I pull my mouth off him, being cautious not to spill a single drop - these are my only bedsheets, after all. I pause, considering my options, and decide to take myself to the bathroom to spit it all out. As much as I adore Dan for doing it for me, and I want to be able to impress him in the same way, I can’t physically bring myself to swallow.

When I return, the state of Dan sprawled over my bed, completely limp, wrists red, mouth open and still panting, makes my heart clench in adoration.

“ _Fuck_ ,” I gasp out. Dan slowly moves his eyes to look at me. “So hot, Dan.”

He can barely react this time - he just tiredly looks away.

“Oh bless,” I chuckle, walking back over to the bed. “Look at you all tuckered out.” I kneel down at the end of the bed, looking over all of Dan before me. “Did you enjoy that?”

Hesitantly, he nods his head. Of course he did - he’s just a little shy again.

“You know what?” I start, standing myself up again and climbing over the bed. “You always surprise me when we do things like this - and we’ve done them a lot lately. You act all shy and innocent, like you’re not the little pervert that begged to do all this in the first place.” Dan doesn’t take his eyes off me whilst I’m saying all this - and good thing, too, because he must know I’m right. “Do you take pleasure in pretending like that?” He doesn’t answer me. I didn’t think he would - he wouldn’t confess to a thing like that, and break his innocent little façade.

I reach over him and unlock his cuffs, keeping the key safely in my pocket, and leave it hanging off the one wrist. “Get up now,” I order him, slipping off the bed myself. “It’s time for brunch - you must be hungry after working your body to a sweat like that.”

Dan doesn’t say a word as he follows me, through the house and to the kitchen, even without me asking him to - oh, but not before pulling up his underwear, bless him.

Brunch isn’t much - just some toast, eggs, bacon, sausages, and a little bit of gammon. I didn’t want to spend too much time on this - it’s only a necessity, to keep his strength up.

I sit opposite Dan as he eats, and I notice that he’s far stiffer than he usually is when we’re eating in here. He must be nervous, still, because our playtime hasn’t ended up: I’m still in control here. Or maybe it’s because he’s cold, sitting here in only his boxers.

Once he’s done, I take his plate from the table and leave it by the sink. When I come back, Dan hasn’t even dared to move from his place. So he still knows. That’s a relief.

“You’ve been very good, Dan,” I hum, walking around the back of his chair. I place my hands on his shoulders - which makes him flinch - and I play my fingers gently down his arms, curling them round his wrists. “I think we should wash up now. Would you like that?”

He’s trembling slightly - only slightly, which is probably the cold again. Politely, and submissively, Dan slowly nods his head.

I slowly bring his hands together behind his back and lock the cuffs his place again, which makes him snap his head round to me.

“Phil…!” he cries. But, just as quick, he shuts his mouth and turns away again. I smile: he’s not objecting.

I lead him upstairs again, with my hands on his shoulders, and take him into the bathroom. He stands still and quiet as I pull his boxers down and off his legs, and when I take off my own clothes, too. I pause for a moment, looking at my jeans, deliberating, then dismiss the idea:  _not yet_ , I tell myself.

Inside the shower, with the stream turned on to fill out the silence, I keep Dan facing me and move myself close to him.

“Why so quiet?” I ask him in a mumble, trying to be soft. I reach my hands up to his face and comb them gently through his hair, sighing in admiration. “You’re usually so noisy. Don’t tell me you’re actually shy?”

Dan doesn’t say anything to that.

I bring my hands down to the base of his head, swiping my thumbs to the front, and I tilt his head up, forcing him to look at me.

“It’s like you’re dissociating,” I whine.

That, it seems, catches Dan’s attention. “No, I promise, it’s not like that!” he cries out. “I just… this isn’t something I’m used to. Sure, I used to fantasise about stuff like this all the time, but… but I was in control of what you did, and it was never real. Now, it… it’s almost  _too_ real. I still like it.” He brings himself forward, closer to me, and tilts his head up towards me. “I really like it. You’re impressive, and I like how it feels to submit to you.” Strangely, I find  _my_  face to be the one to take on a blush. “I can’t help but stay quiet, because you’re in charge…” Ah, and there’s his blush. His eyes look away, but I’m holding his head in place. “I worry you’ll punish me.”

At those words, I smile.

“You’re doing fine, love,” I soothe him - _oh god_ , another pet name slipped out! But that one… actually felt nice. I couldn’t help but say it. “And when you’re good, I’ll reward you. You’d have to go out of your way to upset me.” I pull him closer, and his lips fall apart expectantly. “Besides - I love hearing your voice.”

I press my lips to his in a loving kiss, feeling Dan fall happily submissive into my hands. It makes my whole body feel warm when he’s happy like this. The hold of my hands soften on Dan’s jaw, but I keep them where they are. Dan parts his lips slightly, suggestively, invitingly me inside, and I’m pleased by the gesture.

“That’s more like it,” I whisper quietly. Then I resume the kiss and take the offer, slipping my tongue alongside his and feeling the kiss deepen. Dan tilts his head slightly back, falling further into my hold, as he tries to work his tongue against mine. And I let him - not letting go of my control, though - just to encourage him out of his shell at bit.

I pull away again. “On the floor,” I order, and Dan obeys - with my help, of course, since his arms are chained behind his back. I kneel down with him, my knees starting to get wet, and I move my hands from Dan’s jaw to his shoulders, holding him still.

I reach forwards and press my lips to his neck, sucking gently, until Dan lets out a whine, and then I move down to his collar and treat it the same.

“Phil…” he gasps out. I wonder if he’s already getting hard. “How long are you gonna do this for?”

“Hmm… Do what?” I hum back, kissing the centre of his chest. “Toy with you?” Dan doesn’t answer to that. “Until dinner. That’s my plan, anyway.”

When I pull back, to see his reaction, Dan opens his mouth with something to say, says nothing, and closes his mouth in defeat again.

“There are a few more things I want to do with you today,” I inform him, not in any seductive kind of way - simply to inform him. “I want to try out some of your toys on you. If that’s okay?”

I see Dan swallow subtly. “Which… which ones?”

Noticing his anxiety starting to surface, I decide to rub my thumbs into his shoulders in an attempt to calm him down. “I’ll tell you before we get there, okay? Otherwise it’ll ruin the mood. But you can always say no. Okay?”

Dan shows me a grateful smile and appreciatively nods his head, and I take that to be the signal to continue.

I lean towards him, returning to what I was doing before, but instead of kissing his chest I close my lips securely round his nipple. Dan lets out a gasp as I do but I don’t pull away - I hold onto his shoulders tightly and I start to suck, making him moan quietly, and I run my tongue carefully over the nub. Dan’s body starts to tremble, and I can’t help but smile at my success.

I pull away. “You’re very sensitive here, aren’t you?” I look up to see Dan’s cheeks holding their signature blush. “This must be one of your favourite spots, too.”

Suddenly, I push on his shoulders and spin Dan around, bringing his back into my chest. Before he can cry out, I bring my hand to his mouth and yank his head back over my shoulder, and he whimpers into my palm.

“Shh,” I sing calmly. “It’s okay. I’m going to play with you some more, that’s all.”

I slip my hand down his chest, feeling his heart beating rapidly like it never has before, but instead of wrapping round his cock - which is already so desperate to be touched again - I slip my fingers along his inner thigh, and the muscles there jerk at my touch. I don’t try to touch his left one, though - his scar is still there, the symbol, and it still looks red from when I’d had to deepen it.

I press a quick kiss to his neck and slide open the shower door, reach behind the sink, and retrieve a bottle of lube. When I shut the door again, I feel Dan’s hair brush against my collar, telling me that he’s turned to look.

“Will this be okay?” I ask him in a soft voice as I kiss the back of his neck this time. “I’m just going to open you up a bit.”

Dan lets out a brief whine in anticipation but submissively nods his head.

I’m glad, because I’ve been excited to do this for a while: I’ve never fingered him from this position before.

 


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, smut (restraint, toys, fingering, gagging, overstimulation, sex)**

Once I’ve covered my fingers well with lube, I reach them down the front of his body, letting Dan’s eyes wander with them. I bring my left hand to his eyes and hide them, pulling his head back over my shoulder in the process.

“Relax…” I soothe him. But he doesn’t - his hands are still clenched behind his back, pressed against my stomach. I know he can’t help that, that he can’t relax before something enters him, but at least I also know that this doesn’t make him reluctant.

I carefully slip my first finger inside, watching Dan’s mouth closely as he tries to hide a noise. I push it as far as it can go, to make sure that I don’t hurt him later. Then I slowly pull it out, not fully, just a bit, and gently start to thrust.

I’m not surprised that Dan isn’t making any noise at this point - it probably isn’t that pleasurable, to be honest, and it isn’t meant to be. But when I watch him, neck arched over my shoulder like that, exposed, I can’t help but kiss the skin there - and  _that_  makes Dan whine, unexpected, because I’d forgotten he can’t see a thing. I only kiss him softly, but he still shivers at the touch - it must be the exposure of it, I guess. What’s that called? Deprivation? Dan would know better than me.

“Dan,” I decide to ask him. “You’ve done your research into this sort of sex, haven’t you?”

He doesn’t respond for a while - probably wondering how to - before mumbling a quiet “Yes…”

“Is there a special name for the effect that blindfolding has?”

Dan hums out a yes. “Sensory deprivation. It heightens your senses and makes you extra sensitive.”

I smile, impressed that he knows, and return to pressing kisses against his neck.

I add the second finger and Dan tries to arch his back, letting out an open-mouthed moan.

I chuckle. “Is that good?” I tease.

“… I… no, it’s just…” he struggles out. “… You hit something good… just then…”

“Oh.” I didn’t realise. I had no clue where I was aiming, at this angle. But that is very good news.

I brush my lips over his neck teasingly. “So…” I smile. “Do you think you could come from this? Maybe… even… untouched?”

At that, I see - and feel - Dan gulp.

I move my mouth over to his ear. “Open your legs a bit more,” I ask of him, and Dan obeys - they were already laid out in front of us, so he bends them at the knees and pushes his feet to the sides of the shower, exposing him a little bit more for me. “Perfect,” I purr to him.

I work my fingers inside him gently, but with a little more strength than before, and I try to curl my fingers experimentally. As soon as Dan’s body jerks and lets out a yelp, I try to memorise where that was, and I stroke the tips of my fingers along that same spot until Dan writhes in my hold.

I move my hand down from his eyes to his mouth and muffle his noises, and to my excitement Dan doesn’t try to stop making them. I pry his lips apart and slide a couple of my fingers inside - just to the first joint, nothing much - and he instantly takes to them, swiping his tongue over them excitedly. His dedication and submission in these situations makes my heart yearn for him.

“You look so good,” I hum into his ear. His body is trembling now - he must really like that spot. “You’ve made me hard now. I won’t fuck you yet, though. There’s still so much I want to do to you.” I press my lips to his cheek, right next to my fingers. “We have all day, and all night. I’m sure you can keep going.”

Dan starts whining continuously - it lets me know that this is really affecting him now. I wonder how this can feel so good - isn’t it just my fingers in an unusual place? If I were ever to think about such a thing happening to me, I shiver with dread and discomfort. So how come Dan likes this so much?

I move my mouth back to his ear. “Do you want some contact now?” I suggest to him. Dan, nodding frantically as much as he can, moans a  _yes_  into the palm of my hand.

So, obliging, I slip my hand away from his mouth, graze his now wet torso, and carefully wrap my fingers round his now achingly hard cock, and Dan’s hips buck up suddenly into my hand.

“Ugh, please…!” he cries. “I'll… I want to come!” He drops his head back over my shoulder, giving me control. “Please, Phil!”

I shush him softly and kiss his cheek. “It’s alright. You can come as soon as you’re ready.”

I work my mouth on his neck, in silence, as we continue. Dan’s moans are very clearly audible even through the noise of the shower. Steam now covers the glass, but I’m not sure whether that’s from us or the heat of the shower’s temperature. I try to work my hands on him at similar speeds, but that’s far harder than it sounds - especially when they’re doing different things.

“Phil…” Dan gasps out, breathless. “Kiss me… Please…”

He turns his head towards me, lips parted, panting helplessly, and the first thing I do is lick my lips. Why does he have to look so damn hot when I have him like this?

I kiss him heatedly, moaning into his mouth myself purely from riding his own euphoria. It was probably a bad idea, kissing at a time like this, because it’s horridly messy and breathless, but I enjoy it too much to pull away now. I’m desperate to be this close to him, and to kiss him like this.

Dan’s hips start to jerk without his control - he’s reaching his peak. So I bring my fingers to the head of his cock, knowing that should bring him over best, and I stroke that part precisely. Since I earned my phone back, I may have tried to do some research of my own, especially since I was going to have control throughout this entire thing.

Dan’s mouth is barely touching mine now - he needed air desperately - but I can feel the way his lips shape my name, over and over, as he moans and pants against me. So I wasn’t ever wrong about that - Dan really does moan my name.

His whole body is overcome with a powerful shiver and he comes messily over my hand, letting out a high-pitched whine in pleasure. His face buries itself into my neck as his orgasm overwhelms him, and even in this moment it feels quite affectionate. His hips buck and twitch without his control and his thighs tremble, unable to decide whether they should snap shut in shame or open further.

Dan, looking like this, reminds me of the whole reason I’m still here with him, why I haven’t run away, and why, despite everything I know, I’m desperate to call him mine.

He sinks into me once he’s done, his body deflating and falling limp against mine. Into my neck, Dan pants and whimpers breathlessly, trying to recover.

“Good boy…” I praise, feeling breathless myself just from watching him. “Was that good for you?” Dan nods quickly, his hair brushing against my jaw.

I lay Dan against the wall as I take hold of the shower head and wash him down - putting the temperature far lower - and he lays obediently still for me, letting me work.

When I crawl back behind him, I open the shower door once again and reach behind the sink, and then, catching sight of my trousers splayed across the bathroom floor, reach for them as well, deciding that it’s time.

“Are you feeling a little better now? Got your breath back?” I ask him genuinely. Dan nods his head. “That’s good. Let’s move on then.”

I pull Dan into me again, his bounds hands pressed against my stomach, as I bring my hands over his head and tug the gag into place - Dan’s special gag, that’s he never used on me before.

“Remember to moan into this for me, okay?” I remind him. Dan doesn’t respond to that - well, he lets out some sort of small noise, but that could be anything.

I push him forwards, now, forcing his body onto his front. Dan’s face lay pressed on his cheek on the floor, looking up at me wide-eyed, as I pull his hips up before me. Then, I draw the toy from behind me and into Dan’s view. His eyes, if possible, go wider.

“I want to play with this next,” I inform him. “Is that okay?”

Dan doesn’t say anything in response - not that he can, really - but his eyes drop away from mine. I take that as his permission. If he was going to object, he would wriggle and whine, wouldn’t he?

I cover it well with lube - it isn’t the smallest in size, to be honest - and position it against Dan’s hole.

Oh god, I hope I prepared him properly. What if it doesn’t fit, and it hurts? Will I be able to tell good from bad?

“I’ll move you in a bit,” I tell him, feeling nervous myself. “This is just to make sure I get it in right.”

Dan hums softly back - appreciation? Understanding? Who knows.

I push the toy in slowly, making sure to pay close attention to Dan’s reaction. He whines softly into his gag, and his fingers clench together behind his back, but nothing appears too bad. Before I even realise, I’ve pressed it fully inside, and both me and Dan expel a sigh of relief.

“Is this okay?” I ask him genuinely. I look over at Dan and he subtly nods his head against the shower floor.

I then start to move it - only slowly, in and out, getting a feel for it. I wonder if Dan has ever done this before. Wait, I think I remember:

 _“I used to -_ ugh _\- used to fuck myself on a dildo, on this bed, and pretend it was you -_ fuck _\- and sometimes I wouldn’t touch myself, no matter how hard I was, trying to make myself come without it.”_

 _Fuck_ , that really does sound good. I need to see him do it sometime, for me.

I play my other hand gently down the length of Dan’s spine, admiring this view I have of him, and it arches gradually from my touch. This feels familiar, too.

_I can imagine what it might feel like to run my hands along the length of his spine, feel the smoothness and warmth of his skin with my fingers. I can grip his hips like I own them. I can press my lips to his neck until he makes some noise - fuck, and those noises, maybe he’ll squeak, or whimper, or whine, and maybe he’ll even beg if I’m good enough. I can have him beneath me, and I can work him, kiss his chest, make his back arch. I can reach everything._

I shiver at the memory. I hadn’t realised until now how long I’ve really been attracted to him like this. I thought Dan was the one to stir these dominant desires within me, but maybe it wasn’t him at all; maybe they were already there. Why does it scare me that this may not be Dan’s doing?

I slip my hand beneath his chest and pull him up, bringing him back into me, body upright, back into our previous position. Dan lets out a quiet yelp into his gag but shuts himself up straight after. I wrap one hand around his middle and reach my right hand down to hold the toy again, continuing to work it inside him. At this angle, Dan jerks forwards with a moan the moment I push it inside, and I grin into his collarbone.

“I want to make you come untouched this time,” I tell him. “I don’t think that will be a problem, though.” I laugh to myself into his collar, watching the toy carefully. “Are you ready?”

Dan simply whines at me. He probably doesn’t know what he should be getting ready for. But then again, this is his toy, so he probably does.

I flick a switch on the base of the toy and immediately feel its vibrations buzz through my palm. At that instant, Dan lets out a high-pitch muffled moan into his gag and drops his head back over my shoulder - he must like it there, I conclude. As I’m looking, I see his cock twitch - it’s already leaking, bless him. His whole body starts to tremble. He really won’t last long at all.

“If I were to ask you, right now, to hold back from coming, do you think you could it?”

Dan cries out suddenly, like a wounded animal, and I take that as a desperate  _no_.

“It’s okay, I wouldn’t do that to you,” I soothe him, pressing my lips into his shoulder. “Come when you’re ready.”

As I wait, trying to hold the toy at what I think is the best angle, I play the fingers of my left hand along Dan’s chest and stomach, taking the moment to explore him. It’s quite interesting. When I run my finger in a circle around his belly button, there’s a certain spot just above it where his muscles will twitch, contracting briefly out of his control. It’s quite cute.

Dan’s moans become short, like his vocal chords are being played staccato, and without any more time he’s coming, hips bucking upwards into the air helplessly, legs twitching, throat letting out whimpers, as white spills over his stomach. As it overwhelms him, Dan rolls his head into my neck again and purrs into it, and it makes my heart flutter at the sweetness.

When he starts to come down, I immediately reach for his jaw, guide his head out from my neck, and pull down his gag. Instantly, Dan starts panting breathlessly, and I’m glad I did it.

“Is that better?” I ask him, my heart racing slightly.

It takes a while for Dan to respond - he needs to get his breath back, of course.

“The ball…” he gasps out, “has holes in… for a reason…” Then he chuckles. “I can… breathe fine… with it on…”

Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. “Well, in that case, do you want it back on then?”

“No!” Dan cries out. “I’m okay.”

I laugh at that.

I wash him down again and unchain and clothe him this time, taking him down to the kitchen again. I let him have a drink and a snack - for his energy - and I watch him admiringly as he happily tucks in.

“I’m hoping to do something more,” I tell him suddenly, mid-mouthful of food. Dan’s eyes flick to me watchfully. “If you’re up for it.”

He just stares at me for a while. “How horny are you today?” he asks me - dangerously, might I add. But I guess he’s fallen out of role for a while - I’ll give him that. We’ve been going for hours now. “Phil… how much of my stuff are you planning to use?”

I lean back against the counter and fold my arms. “Not all of it, don’t you worry.” Dan expels a sigh of relief. “But most of it.” He takes that sigh back, if that’s possible. “Anything we don’t get through today, we can try another time.” I walk over to him and take his jaw into my hold. “I assume that’s why you brought it here, right?”

Dan gulps down his mouthful of water and shyly nods.

I steal a kiss from him then, and mutter how proud I am of him today. When I pull back, I see his cheeks have taken on another blush.

Once he’s done, I ask if he’s ready to back upstairs, and as he nods his head, his eyes drop to the floor - falling back into character, I guess.

I don’t take him to the shower again, or my room - no, we go to my brother’s bedroom. Once I’ve led Dan inside, I lock the door behind us and tell Dan to take his place on the bed.

“I haven’t been in here before…” Dan tells me in a quiet mutter. He must be feeling nervous again.

“Yes you have,” I contradict. “There are two locks on this door, too.”

Dan refuses to look at me once I say that. “Well…” he struggles. “I’ve never  _really_  been in here. I installed the locks, but that was it. I never looked around.”

I take his word for that.

“Lay on your front for me now,” I command, watching Dan obey. I reach under the bed and retrieve the new restraint - a four-cuff piece, which  _really_ shocked me to see in his bag - and as I start locking it into place, starting with his wrists, Dan lets out a noise of concern - he must guess what this is then. “You can’t have worn this before, can you?” I tease, drawing down his underwear again. I grab his ankles and pull them into place, locking them into their cuffs. Dan just whimpers quietly into the bedsheets.

Once done, I drag his practically helpless body to the head of the bed, turn him around, and position him with his back against the wall. Dan faces me, on his knees, with his calves and arms drawn tightly behind his back, completely exposed for me. As he sees me looking, his head turns away, and a blush rises on his cheeks.

“Is this okay for you?” I question him softly. “Will you be okay staying in this?”

Dan, with his head still turned away, nods his head sheepishly. He’s a cute little thing, I’ll give him that.

I make my way quickly to the bathroom and back, retrieving what I need, and I slip the gag back into place - it’s a  _ball gag_ , of course, that’s what it’s called!

“I have something special planned this time,” I taunt him, bringing out the same toy and lube again. Dan watches my hands intently. “You’ll have to be extra quite this time, alright?” Dan makes a noise of confusion. Once I’ve lubed up the toy, I carefully press it inside of him again, which earns me a quiet whine. “I’m going to leave you here whilst I make a video.” Dan yelps into his gag. “Don’t worry - it’s going to be good for you. Won’t you like to watch the video over, with only you and I knowing that  _this_  is going on behind the scenes? Don’t you want to feel special like that?” Dan’s eyes shine in anticipation - I think that hit the nail right on the head.

I don’t say anything else as I finish setting him up. I bring the bullet out too, hold it against his cock, and tie it in place with an elastic band. He isn’t hard yet, but he certainly will be soon.

“You can come as many times as you like,” I tell him in the softest voice I can manage. “In fact, I encourage it. But try to keep it down for me, okay?”

Dan nods quickly, eager. I smile at his submission and steal a kiss from his lips again.

“You’re far too good for me, Dan,” I mutter, making him blush.

I reach my hand down and switch on each of the toys, and straight away Dan’s already whimpering. I press a quick and gentle kiss to his lips a final time before climbing off the bed.

“If you want to stop,” I reassure him, “Be extra loud, and I’ll come immediately, okay? You’re my number one priority.”

Dan, even through his gag, beams with a smile. I take that as the okay to leave.

I run back to my own room, tidy things up - especially the bed - clothe myself, and set everything up ready to make a video.

“Hello! So I woke up this morning and I was half asleep…”

I drone on, as I always do. But I can’t take my mind off Dan in the other room.

After a few minutes of filming, I realise Dan has already started moaning. It makes me smile helplessly. I wonder how many times he’ll come, then, if he’s already sounding like this. I consider having to play music over the video if he’s too audible.

I make up a few stories (I haven’t gone outside enough to have any good real ones), but I do mention the Get-Together and meeting fans with Dan. I hope he’ll like that - that I’ve mentioned him in my videos.

After the bit about the dentist, which I hope people buy, Dan starts moaning exceptionally loudly, so I jump up quickly and rush over to his room. When I get there, he doesn’t seem to be distressed: in fact, he looks like he’s just coming down. Looking at him, there’s already white across his stomach.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, just in case. Dan just moans and nods his head quickly.

Oh well. I’m not going to waste my visit, then.

I climb onto the bed and kneel right in front of Dan, and his eyes fix on mine. “How many times have you come already, then? Just once?”

Blushing, Dan shakes his head.

“Twice?”

Looking away, he nods.

I smile. “Good boy.”

I reach my hand down his body and take his cock between my fingers - the contact makes him squeal into his gag - ball gag. I stroke him gently, knowing he’s sensitive, and Dan lets himself relax into my touch. I stroke everything that I can reach, which excludes the tip of his cock, since that’s where the bullet is held. It doesn’t take more than a few strokes to get him to come, and his body trembles as he releases over his stomach again.

I let him go, wipe down my hand, and give him another quick kiss before leaving.

“Hold on just a little bit longer, okay?”

Dan nods - he does look  _really_  good with that gag on - and I leave him once again.

At one point, I spot my cat ears, and I grab them, idea sparking, but upon seeing them, I pout. They’re missing an ear. How could this have happened? When I inspect the severed part closer, I see that the cut is clean, so it can’t have been ripped off.

The image comes to mind of Dan, angered by my behaviour at some point, spotting these and cutting through the ear out of rage. Or maybe it wasn’t so rage-fuelled - if I was that mad, I would have torn it right off. So maybe this was a message, stowed away, decided against?

I shake it from my mind. It holds no significance now.

Once I’ve finished filming, I decide to leave the editing for later - I’m eager to visit Dan again and see how he has been getting on.

Inside, on the bed, Dan has fallen onto his front, cock pressed helplessly into the bedsheets where more white lays. Sweat covers his body and he won’t stop trembling. He turns his head to me, panting breathlessly, and whines desperately into his gag.

“Do you want me now?” I suggest to him, smiling. He moans almost hysterically and wriggles around on the bed.

I climb over the bed and undo his restraints, throwing those and the toys to the side. I move Dan onto his back and climb over him, making us face each other.

“How many times have you come today? Hmm?” I pour lube onto my fingers and work it onto myself - I’m too hard to deny myself now. Holding back, whilst seeing Dan like that all day, has been hard work. “It was already six the last I checked. How many now?” I reach to his head and pull off the ball gag, letting Dan gasp out as I throw it to the floor with the rest.

“Nine,” Dan confesses immediately. “I don’t know if I can do it again. I just want you to fuck me. That’s all I want.”

“Whatever you want, then.”

I push myself inside, moaning already at the long-awaited satisfaction, and I fall over Dan’s body. Instantly, his arms wrap around me and squeeze, hugging me tightly.

“Use me,” he whispers into my ear. “Let me be good for you.”

I oblige.

As it turns out, after not very long of me fucking into him like this, Dan still has one more orgasm in him, and I’m instantly desperate to bring it out of him. I press our bodies together so that his cock rubs against our stomachs, and Dan’s fingers grip my back tightly in response.

“I love you,” Dan cries out, trying his hardest to meet our mouths in a kiss. “I love you so much.”

I’m not thinking, I know that, I’m running on impulse, out of my own control.

“I love you too,” comes out of my mouth. “ _Fuck_ , I love you. I love you so much, Dan.”

Straight away, I feel Dan’s body tense, and he comes between our torsos.

I chuckle breathily at that. “You just came… at me saying those words?”

Dan doesn’t look ashamed.

So I wrap my arms around him and keep going. “I love you - will you come again if I keep saying it?”

“Fuck, Phil!” he cries. “I’m too - ”

“I love you, Dan. I fucking love you,  _fuck_!”

We both reach our highs, shaking and gasping into each other’s mouths. It feels so good, after all this build-up, and especially without the rubber between us. I hold onto him tightly, and he holds me just the same. I don’t think either of us will let the other go.

When we finally come down, I use the last of my energy to pull myself out. Then we resort to laying with each other, cuddling, desperately trying to catch our breath.

“Thank you,” I tell Dan, exhausted. “You’ve been so good for me today. I really mean that; you didn’t have to do any of the things I’d planned.” I squeeze him lovingly. “I can’t thank you enough.”

Dan nuzzles his head into my chest and sighs happily, like a child, or a puppy. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, as sleepily as me. “I’ve never been happier than I am with you today. You’ve made my dreams come true today.”

 


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, angst, family issues**

Once we’ve had a little rest (and by that, I mean we actually fall asleep for a couple of hours), me and Dan work at clearing up all the mess we’ve made (I will never tell Martyn about his bedsheets, I may have to burn them instead). Once done, I edit the video I’d made (ensuring the music covers any possible remnants of Dan’s noises in the background) and upload it straight to my channel, calling it  _I WANT SNOW._ Honestly, filming a video with Dan like that sounded like an amazing idea at the time, but posting it is a whole other sense of fear. I hope no one figures out what was going on. I mean, there should be no way of that, but still. People are uncannily clever sometimes.

We make ourselves dinner afterwards - well, I say  _we_ , but Dan does all the work.

“Oh shoot,” Dan grumbles to himself once we’re done.

“What?” I ask him, concerned. There are few scenarios where Dan will substitute out a swear word.

“I forgot to mention food shopping whilst we were out yesterday.” He pouts at me. “We need more stuff, or we’re gonna go hungry.”

I groan in annoyance and slump into the kitchen chair in reluctance. “I don’t want to go out  _now_ , I’m too tired!”

Dan walks over and gives me a well-needed playful slap to the upper arm. “ _You’re_ tired? You’re not the one who had to come over ten times!”

Despite his intentions, those words only make him blush and me grin.

“Come on,” he groans, pulling me out of my seat and towards the door. “We might as well get it over with.”

We put our shoes and coats on, taking our sweet exhausted time to do it, and when Dan reaches to the door handle I wrap my arms round his waist and drag him into the wall, quickly pressing our mouths together. Dan groans in anger and tries to push me off, but he can’t stop himself from kissing me back. It’s our curse.

Suddenly the door clicks open, and I pull back, eyes shooting to the handle.

Oh  _fuck_. It’s from outside.

I pull myself off him and yank Dan away from the door, both of us staring at it as it opens. My heart is pounding hard in my throat. I already know, from the silhouette, exactly who it is.

My mum pokes her head round the door.

“Phil!” she cries out, smiling hugely. “It’s so good to see you! Were you about to go somewhere?”

I gulp. “Food shopping,” I answer honestly. Blood has drained from my face.

“Oh, well I’ll go with you then!”

“No - ” I yell, desperate. “Me and Dan will go.” I quickly grab his hand and yank him through the door. “Won’t be long - we’ll catch up later!”

I slam the door behind us and rush us both to Dan’s car.

“Stop it! Slow down!” he yells, struggling out of my grasp. “What the fuck has gotten into you?”

I stare at him wide-eyed. “What? That’s my mum! Did you not get that?”

His face drops. “Oh.” He deflates. “Sorry. I thought you’d been lying to me for a moment.”

I frown at him. “Lying? About what?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t even know. Something. It doesn’t matter now.”

He reaches to take my hand, but I pull it back, shooting my eyes anxiously to the house. Oh god, she isn’t watching us, is she?

Dan freezes. “Oh,” he says quietly. It’s void of emotion again. That’s never a good sign. “You have a problem with your mum knowing about us?”

I turn back to him and gulp. “It’s not like that,” I tell him. “She doesn’t know about me being gay in the first place. This would shock her. Plus…” The back of my neck grows itchy with awkwardness, so I bring my hand up to rub at it. “She’s not exactly the most supportive, progressive mother you’ll meet.”

Dan looks sad. I don’t know whether that’s for me or for himself.

He unlocks the car and opens his door. “Get in - it’ll keep us out of the house for a while.”

I sigh in relief and join him in the car. “Thank you.”

As Dan drives us to the store, I watch him carefully out of the corner of my eye. He certainly isn’t happy anymore. He seems tense. I wonder what it is, exactly. Is it because of my mum, or me? Is it the fact that we can’t stroll around the house showing our affection anymore, or have sex so loudly? Or is it just the fact that we don’t have the house to ourselves anymore? If that was the problem, he’d take us to his house, surely. Or would he? If I were him, I’d way rather stay at the house of my idol than bring them to my own. Would I? The second sounds appealing, too, I can’t lie. Oh, what would I know?! I’m just the idol!

We shop around without much of a word between us.

When we get back into the car, take our seats and clip in, Dan doesn’t start it. I can feel what’s coming.

“Tell me what’s up,” Dan insists of me. “With your mum. Why don’t you like her?”

If this turns into more of an interrogation, I might just break into a cold sweat.

“She’s overbearing - at least, she always was, in my childhood,” I start nervously. “But it was always so buttered. She’d smile as she told us what friends we could and couldn’t have, and claim everything was for our own good. She wanted me to go into business or at least get a job by the time I turned sixteen. So when I went to university for English, well, she turned on me - still with that stupid smile on her face. Told me I was throwing my life away, that I wasn’t a proper adult - hell, even a Lester!” I fix my eyes on him, glaring. “Did I ever tell you that Lester isn’t my dad’s name? It’s hers! I don’t even know who my dad is! Martyn could be my half-brother for all I know.” I sigh and drop my head into my hands. “She’s always been so patronising. She’d get mad when we weren’t her exact picture-perfect idea of kids. I can’t even begin to imagine what she must be back for.”

I dread her being back for Christmas. She was the one that ruined them for me, all those years ago, when she kicked my dad out. I called him my dad, but I never felt like… like it was real. And once he was gone, he’s never reached out to me or Martyn since. I wish we could have just sucked it up and made a family out of it, to be honest.

“Shit…” I sigh out, suddenly feeling exhausted. “I’ve never told you so much like that before. Sorry.”

Dan instantly takes my hand in his. “ _Sorry_? What are you talking about? Don’t apologise for trusting me.” He shows me a content little smile, like a child might have. “I love it when you talk about your life.”

When I look over at Dan, he’s holding a light blush. It reminds me of the old him, the fan of mine. He still surprises me like that.

“We should head back now…” I mumble quietly, having nothing to say to that. I never know what to say when Dan suddenly does that again, obsessing over me and liking me and stuff. It draws my mind to a complete blank. Maybe I like it too much.

Dan agrees, and drives us home.

It’s late by the time we come in again - ten o'clock. I was surprised the store was even open. When we open the door, mum’s already standing there waiting.

“What did you get?” she springs on us, with that big stupid fucking grin on her face. “I hope it’s not junk food. That’s what I always worried about when you went off to uni, you know? I was sure you’d kill yourself on that diet of yours!”

I ignore her, rushing Dan into the kitchen and putting all the food away.

Mum, of course, follows us, with her beady fucking eye. Suddenly, she snatches a microwavable pizza out of my hand.

  
“What’s this?” she sneers in that disapproving voice of hers. “Darling, I told you about this. You need to cut down on the greasy food.”

“Actually, Mrs Lester,” Dan bravely cuts in - that surprises me. I never thought he’d jump at the chance to talk to her. “That’s mine.”

I watch the two carefully out of the corner of my eye. Mum quickly turns her gaze back to me.

“You shouldn’t be encouraging this, Phil. Your friend’s bad habits will be on your head.”

I groan inwardly and snatch it back out of her hand to shove in aggressively into the fridge.

“I paid for it,” Dan continues - uh oh, his voice has gotten sharper. I could never miss a telling sign like that. “And I know how to cook. I’ve been cooking me and Phil all sorts of meals whilst - ”

Mum slams her hand on the dining table, making us both jump.

“Are you still so lazy, Philip?” she snaps. “Letting someone else cook for you? You’re the host - you should be the one to serve your guests.”

Dan steps up to her and shoots her - wait, he’s not glaring. He’s grinning.

“Mrs Lester,” he sings, overly calm. He even tilts his head a little in a mock innocent manner. “Isn’t it rude to ignore your guests?”

She stares at him. I stare at them both. My heart racing in my chest. I’ve never known anyone to talk to my mum like that. She might rip his throat out for all I know.

Her mouth curls into a big smile. “Of course, dear. You can have my apologies.”

Then she turns and leaves the room.

I let out the biggest sigh I’ve ever made.

“ _Shit_ ,” I gasp out, looking at Dan in amazement. “That was tense.”

He turns to me and smiles - a real, genuine smile this time. “It was. I’ve got goosebumps.”

We go up to bed once the shopping’s packed away, without another word from my mum. She seems to be hiding in her old room. Wow - what did Dan do to her?

Dan suddenly grabs my arm, stopping me from going into our room -  _my_  room.

“What’s wrong?” I ask him.

“How are we supposed to be playing this?” Dan whispers, concern clear in his voice. “How can we sleep in the same bed with her here?”

Oh, great. I hadn’t thought about that.

I sigh in annoyance. “We can’t. I’m sorry, Dan. It might be best if you stay in my brother’s room.”

Dan grips my arm tighter. Wrong answer, I assume. “I can’t,” he whines like a child. “I have to stay with you.” He looks away for a moment, thinking, and then looks back with his eyes shining with an idea. “I’ll sleep on the floor. No, even better - I can still sleep with you, but we’ll lock the door. You had a lock before, right?” I consider that, then nod. “Good. We’ll just pretend that I’m on the floor.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I have panic attacks, so I have to stay with you. Does that sound good?”

I just stare at him. He sounds like he’s had practice at this sort of thing.

I’m not really sure what he just said, so I just nod with him, and Dan’s eyes go wide with excitement - he seems thrilled.

We go to the bathroom and wash up before making our beds. I lock my door tightly and we get changed into our night wear (saying that, Dan still only sleeps in his underwear -  _my_ underwear - unless he’s cold, then he wears something else of mine).

We both get into our respective beds, just in case the mum comes looking, and after a few minutes all the lights are off in the house, and it falls into silence. I smile at that and turn to Dan, knowing that he can come up and join me now.

He isn’t looking at me, though. He’s staring straight in front of him. No - he isn’t really looking.

“Dan?” I whisper softly. “Are you okay?”

He doesn’t move. I wonder if he even heard me.

“I used to imagine…” Dan mumbles suddenly, still staring, “at the start, with you, little sleepovers like this. Sometimes, I’d close my eyes and pretend I was with you, here. Most of the time, though, I’d imagine you were with me, in my room. I couldn’t sleep, so I calmed myself down by pretending you were by my side.” He let out a tired sigh. “I miss that.”

I listen closely to that, feeling incredibly touched. This must have been when he was very young - fifteen, I think? When his family had gone.

“You…” I struggle to say it out loud. I’m struggling to imagine it at all. “You used to think of me as a friend?”

Dan, after a moment of stillness, gently nods his head. “You were all I had…” he cries quietly. “I needed you. At that time, I didn’t need anything but a friend.” He stares down at himself, in silence, and slowly tugs his covers over his chest. “I used to dream of us being younger, ten years old together, having these silly sleepovers.” He lets out a sudden little laugh, or a sob, or a mixture of both. I can’t be sure. “In my mind, I’ve spent an entire lifetime with you. Isn’t that strange.”

For a moment, I don’t say anything. I just watch him. Now that I think about it, now that I have time to step back, Dan is far more complex than I may ever understand.

“I’m sorry,” he cries all of a sudden. “I’m sorry for ruining that between us. I wanted us to be friends - to be  _normal_  - more than anything.”

“Hey.” I crawl over the bed until I’m at the edge, and I reach my hand to Dan’s head, brushing my fingers along his jaw, and I turn his head to me. And that’s when I see: tears. “Why are you upset? Do you think you’ve disappointed me in some way?”

Dan just lets out a hic - I don’t think he meant to do that.

“Well you haven’t,” I reassure him, in the softest voice I can. “Do you think we can’t be friends? Just because there’s something romantic between us?” I can tell, without his words, that his eyes are portraying how much he really believes that. “Dan,” I tell him gently. “Romantic feelings are the epitome of what you can feel for another person. It’s the level above - and including - friendship. The person you share a relationship with is your best friend on a whole new level. We can do what best friends do, like this…” I lean down until my face is level with his. “… play games, have sleepovers… but we also enjoy an added closeness that friends don’t have…”

I press my lips to his lightly in a very soft kiss. I don’t pull away for quite some time, because I can feel, right from the moment that our lips first touch, how much Dan needs this kiss right now.

Eventually, Dan is the one to break the kiss. His eyes lock onto mine in a way I haven’t seen them do before. It’s like he’s seeing me better now, rather than just the surface.

“And these added things,” I continue, “only heighten the experience. We’re best friends, Dan.” I show him a smile. “And we’re even more than that, too. You can have everything you’ve ever wanted with me.”

Dan, slowly, brings his hand around my neck and pulls me in for another kiss, and I allow him happily. It isn’t deep, and doesn’t go far, but Dan’s kiss tastes as good as it always has.

“Thank you,” he whispers brightly. “You’re better than I ever could have imagined.”

I can’t help but smile at those words, my heart feeling like a small fire is kindling inside it. My chest starts to feel all warm. Now  _that_  is one hell of a compliment.

“Come on then,” I lead him, wrapping my arm around Dan’s neck and encouraging him up to the bed with me. He bundles his arms between our bodies and buries his head into my neck - right under my jaw - and lets out a heavy, happy sigh. Once we’re settled, I reach to the lamp and switch it off and pull the covers over the both of us, and then I lay my arm over Dan’s body and hug him closer to mine, embracing his warmth.

He cuddles into me and, strangely, lets out a quiet purr.

“Say you love me,” he mumbles into my collar. “Please.”

I move my head so I can see him better, which prompts Dan to do the same, turning to look up to me. Without meaning to, I’m showing him a soft smile.

“I love you,” I hum, running my fingers through his hair. “So much.”

I lean down and place a goodnight kiss on his forehead, which makes him smile, and then I curl us back together again like two puzzle pieces.

“I love you too,” Dan mumbles - sleepily, now - purring into my neck.

That familiar kindling of pride alights in my chest. I feel my arms tighten slightly around him, desperate to hold him securely. Right now, like this, Dan feels like my little project, like I picked him up from the streets and gave him a place to settle. Isn’t that exactly what I’ve done for him? I’ve accepted, cultured, and shared his feelings for me, and brought his dreams to life, and consoled him when he’s opened up to me. I must be like a dream to him. He came to me broken in more ways than I know already, and I’m keeping him safe. I hug him warmly. He’s mine. I like it this way.

I hope he looks up to me like that, like I’ve impressed him. I want Dan to look at me with adoration and love shining from his little youthful eyes, all for me. It makes all of this worth it. It makes it all okay.

I can say it proudly now: I’m happy with him. I really,  _really_  am.

But now I’m in trouble. Right now, I’m good for Dan and everything is great. But now that my mum is home, I’m walking on a tight rope - and I’d laid it out carelessly ages ago.

_Dan glares at me through the mirror. “I asked you personally. There’s no excuse you can give me. You just couldn’t be asked.”_

_After a moment of stillness and silence, I sigh into the room. “My mum called me.”_

_Dan stops. He turns off the tap. “Oh.”_

_I nod. “She’s organised a family holiday to Florida in May.” I bow my head. “You know I haven’t see her or dad in years. I was in a bad place. I wanted to help you, but… I just couldn’t stop worrying about it. It’s silly of me, really. It’s months from now.”_

_Dan stays quiet for a moment. Then he’s wrapping his arms comfortingly round my middle, hugging me kindly. “It’s not silly. It makes perfect sense.” He presses his lips to the back of my neck._

I lied. Me and mum haven’t been in contact for almost a year. There is no holiday. Dan was getting aggressive, and, terrified, I panicked.

So what on earth should I do now? Talk to my mum and get her to play along? I don’t think that would ever happen. So should I just confess to the lie? Should I offer it now - would that reduce my punishment? Or should I just wait - who knows, Dan may not mention it, or even remember. Maybe I can pretend that I don’t remember. Shit - no, I can’t do that. He would never believe me.

“Phil,” Dan groans softly, playfully poking my belly. “Your heart’s racing. Go to sleep.”

I try to steady my breathing. “I will,” I struggle out, whispering. “Go to sleep yourself.”

“Mmm, okay.”

Dan squirms a little in my arms, making himself comfortable, and finally relaxes with a sleepy little sigh.

 _Fuck_. What am I going to do about this?

In the morning, we’re woken up to my mum banging on the door.

“Sweetie! And guest! I made breakfast!”

Dan looks up at me from within my hold. I just roll my eyes at him.

“If it’s eggs and bacon, she’s sugarcoating us,” I warn him as well as I can. Dan just smiles at that.

She’s never called me  _sweetie_ before. Actually, now that I think about it, I don’t know how much she will have changed over the past year. Well, from what she was saying yesterday, with Dan, I’d say very little.

We head downstairs together in our pyjamas (Dan puts on a little more, though, obviously) before washing up and getting ready, which isn’t what we’ve been doing for the couple of months that Dan has been pretty much living with me.

In the kitchen, mum shows me a typical grin. Me and Dan take our seats at the table - not our usual, facing each other instead. We glance down at our plates: sausages, beans, eggs and bacon. I allow myself a knowing glance with Dan.

Mum brings Dan mug of hot chocolate and puts her hand on my shoulder. “A word outside, please?” she sings mock-cheerily. I look at Dan blankly, saying  _I have no clue_ , before I get myself up and follow her out of the kitchen.

She takes me into the living room and closes the door behind me. Then, silently, in an attempt to be intimidating, she folds her arms in a huff.

“Who is he, dear?” she hums in an almost sing-song manner.

“ _Dan_ ,” I seethe, “is a friend.”

“ _Who is he_?” she persists, her voice sharpening.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “I don’t even know what that question means. What exactly are you asking me? Do you want his birth certificate or something?”

That makes her glare at me - still, though, with a grin. “Don’t talk like that to me, Phil,” she yaps. When she falls into the obviously pissed persona, I can know I’ve done her wrong. What  _wrong_  that is, exactly, I hardly ever know. “What is he doing here? Does he live here now?”

I fold my arms over my chest, too. “Dan is here to visit. He’s having…” Fuck, what should I say? “… family problems right now, so I offered for him to rest up here for a while - at least, until his situation is resolved or he goes off to university.” I raise an eyebrow at her. “You’re not going to kick him out, are you? Because when you left me and Martyn without a word, you left this house to me. And since I’m the only one who really lives in it, and you’re just visiting - ”

“I am - ”

I ignore her, raising my voice. “ - since you’re just  _visiting,_  I think Dan can stay here. Because I trust him.”

Mum glares at me. She’s hated me ever since I stopped being a pushover, because I was  _her_ little pushover.

“So…” She switches way too obviously. I’m guessing she has nothing to say against that. “How did you two meet? Was he at York with you?”

Wow, she actually remembered what university I went to? “No. I met him through my videos.”

At that,  _daringly_ , my mother scoffs.

“What?” I hiss challengingly.

“You’re  _still_ making those silly videos?” she mocks with a laugh. “Honey, I told you - there’s no career in that. You spend so much of your time making them, and for what? You don’t even have a part time job! If you keep this up, I’m going to have to cut you off.”

My eyes widen at that challenge. “You wouldn’t.”

“I certainly would. You’re a waste of my money.”

Right there, at that, my frustration overwhelms me.

I storm out of the room, reach Dan in the kitchen, and drag him upstairs. “Get dressed,” I order, and he obeys without a word.  I throw him a pair of shoes and we rush downstairs, where I throw Dan his coat. My mum yells at me, but I slam the door behind us before I can hear what she’s saying.

“So,” Dan mutters quietly as we walk through the cold. “What exactly is going on?”

I just sigh heavily, stressfully, and shake my head. “I just need to be away from her.”

Dan doesn’t say anything more. Kindly, he walks beside me in silence, humming Christmas songs tunefully to himself as we go. It doesn’t take long for that to bring a smile back onto my face. With Dan here, my life actually feels brighter.

 


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Apologies for the lateness of this update - I have been having an unexpectedly busy week. There will be no more delays in the schedule.)

**WN: strong language, angst, mentions of restraint/threats of death (dream)/knife wounds and strangulation (brief), pre-smut**

_Phil walks slowly over to him, grinning, and Peej is helpless. He can’t wriggle, can’t scream, can’t make this stop. In his hand, Phil holds a long knife. It makes Peej squirm even more._

_He kneels down before him and takes a fistful of Peej’s hair into his hand, making him yelp into his gag. At that, Phil smiles._

_“You’re terrified,” he brags. “Of me. Isn’t that mad.”_

_He brings the knife up and presses it into Peej’s throat - at which, Peej’s breath cuts short, and his blood starts to race._

_“With you gone, I can stay with Dan. You know I like him.” Peej gulps. “Now, you’re just getting in the way. You’re too clingy.”_

_The knife presses in harder, and Peej cries out as he feels it pierce his skin._

_“Shh, it’s alright,” Phil soothes him. “It won’t hurt for long. Be a good friend and die for my happiness.”_

No, no, please!  _Peej tries to cry._ I’m sorry! Please, don’t do this!

_Strangely, Phil stops. He leans forward and reaches his other hand to Peej’s hair, and combs his fingers through it affectionately._

_“You’re selfish,” he mutters softly. “And jealous. You’re jealous of what me and Dan have together.”_

_Peej can’t react: Phil’s closeness is too much for him._

_“When you saw Dan kissing me, that very first time you woke up in this world of ours, something stirred in you, didn’t it?” Peej lets out a quiet whine of objection - the knife presses harder, and he shuts up. “Don’t try to deny it. You can’t get anything past me - I know everything.” Phil’s hand slips to the back of his neck and Peej shuts his eyes tightly. “You’ve wondered for a while now how it might feel to kiss me.”_

No, _Peej objects in his head._ Don’t say that. It’s not true, it can’t be.

_Suddenly, Phil’s fingers press firmly into the back of Peej’s neck, and they’re brought incredibly close. The knife is dropped, and instead, Phil’s fingers curl past Peej’s lips, into the gag, and pull it down._

_“At least you’re cute,” he laughs. “That will make this easier.”_

_Phil presses his lips against Peej’s, and his body goes stiff in shock._ This isn’t real _, he tells himself._ It can’t be real. Why would Phil do this anyway? To mess with me? _It’s his weakness. Peej won’t let himself realise it, but unconsciously he already knows - he’s vulnerable like this, in a way he’s never felt before. It makes him feel sick just thinking about it._

_Phil’s fingers tug down the collar of Peej’s shirt and his mouth moves there instead, and he can’t help but cry out, out loud, now that his gag is gone. What could Phil want, now that he’s doing this? How far is it going to go? What if he goes mad from it all, and he likes it?_

_From somewhere distant, Peej hears some faint snickers. When he opens his eyes, a familiar silhouetted shape stands over them both, with a bright toothy grin on his face._

_“You’ve really lost your mind,” the figure laughs. “Haven’t you?”_

_He jumps awake, gasping for breath._

_Peej’s hands are shaking and his lungs aren’t working -_ fuck _, he can’t breathe!_

_“Peej!” Chris cries, rushing over to the bed. He leaps over and encloses Peej’s shaking body in his arms, and squeezes him tightly. “It’s okay, I’m here. It’s just you and me, in my house. Nothing will hurt you.” He places a gentle kiss to Peej’s head. “You’re safe.”_

_Peej, struggling for words, reaches up his trembling fingers and loosely tries to grasp Chris’ shirt. “You know…” he gasps out. “You know we’re not. We’ll never be safe.” Tears fall from his eyes, and he buries his face into Chris’ chest. “It’s my fault. I got you in trouble too, and it’s all my fault.”_

_“Shh,” Chris soothes him gently. As Peej continues to sob, Chris brings him away from his chest and faces them to each other. “Don’t you dare blame yourself. You’re not the one who kidnapped and tormented us. You were suffering…” Gently, affectionately, he plays his fingers through Peej’s hair. “… So you came to me. And I don’t hate you for that.” He smiles. “I love you, Peej.” Peej’s face takes on a bright red blush. “Nothing will ever change that.”_

_Carefully, gently, Chris leans forwards and places a kiss to Peej’s cheek, and they leave the conversation there._

Me and Dan have a new routine, now that my mum’s back.

We wake up extra early - around seven am - grab ourselves a light breakfast, and leave the house. We make our way to the fields, to the place that me and Dan found when I first dragged him out here, and that’s where we stay until it starts to get dark. We pack lunch with us, but we go out for dinner. I offer to pay every time, because it’s my fault that we’re eating out so much - I can’t bring myself to have dinner in the house, with her.

One day, we find that, as we head outside, our eyes are assaulted with a bright white.

“Holy fuck,” Dan cries. “Snow?! I haven’t seen snow in ages!”

I can’t help but grin widely. “It is so much warmer down South that you don’t even get snow?”

“Shut up.”

I can’t believe it’s snowing though. We never have white Christmases anymore. We used to, when I was much younger, but since then it’s only ever snowed in January or February.

Dan watches me intently. “You’re so happy, aren’t you?”

I nod my head excitedly. “This Christmas is going to be perfect.”

My love for Christmas may get a little silly sometimes, I’ll admit. But I can’t help it: ever since I was a child, Christmas has been the absolute best. School was over, fluffy Christmas jumpers were everywhere, you’d have hot chocolate every morning and every night, and, just for one day, time seemed to stand still, and nothing existed but your house and your family. And even though we’d only sit in front of the TV for hours on end, it was special. So having Dan here with me, now, ready to spend this year’s Christmas with me and me alone, I don’t know. I feel ready to have a good time again.

“We could make a video in this,” I suggest half-jokingly. “With the snow, we could make a something Christmassy.”

Dan stops walking suddenly and turns his head sharply to me. “Really? You’d want to do that?”

I look back at him. “Actually… Yeah. We should. We really should.” I show him a big, excited smile. “Let’s do it.”

Dan, unusually, starts bouncing up and down - he’s even more excited than I am, and that’s a feat. “Oh wow! Let’s make something big! Something memorable!” He gasps. “Let’s make a series!”

“A what?”

“Yeah!” He’s beaming now. His creativity is on a roll and there’s no way to make it stop. “We could make an adventure, a Christmas adventure! People would  _love_  that!”

As Dan rushes back into the house to fetch some supplies, I can’t help but giggle to myself. He’s so overwhelmingly happy at this concept that I can barely understand it. But this is his first Christmas with someone else in a long time - and even  _me,_ at that. I’m not surprised that he’s this happy. I just hope I can make something with him that won’t disappoint him.

 _Peej stands in front of the mirror with his back to it, holding his shirt up and inspecting his scar. It was already starting to scab over even when they were on their way back, but in the shower, he bent his back too far and now it’s starting to bleed again. Random patches of the letters are beading with little red dots. It makes him want to cry. How long will it take for this to heal? How long until he can stop being reminded of what_ Phil _, of all people, did to him?_

_“Peej? Do you know where - ”_

_Peej’s heart skips a beat and he quickly tugs his shirt back down before Chris sees._

_“ - Oh, nevermind,” he calls, finally stepping into the room. He instantly fixes his eyes on Peej, standing dumbly in the middle of the bedroom, and sighs, walking over to him. “Are you okay?” he asks him in a soft voice. “Are you thinking about them again?”_

_Peej doesn’t say anything: he just lets himself fall into Chris’ chest and grip his shirt between his fingers tightly. He can’t stand being here anymore, with Chris. It was fine when Chris didn’t know - no, hadn’t_ seen  _a thing. But now he’s seen Peej in Dan’s captivity, everything’s ruined. Chris has seen him whimper and cry and be totally helpless in a fucking kid’s hands. Peej can’t stop imagining what Chris must been seeing, constantly, whenever they’re together._

_Now he knows how Phil must have felt._

_“I wish…” Chris starts quietly. “I wish I could take your mind off them. I wish I could find a way to make you feel safe with me, and happy.” He squeezes him gently. “But it’s going to take some time.”_

_Peej doesn’t know this, but from the angle that they’re hugging right now, Chris can’t help but stare at the blood that seeps through his boyfriend’s shirt._ That must be his reprimand, _Chris thinks sadly to himself. Peej hasn’t let him know what happened to him, even though they both already knew that something had been done. Chris has respected Peej’s wishes, and his privacy, and hasn’t asked since. But, right now, he can’t help but see it. It makes him want to cry. He wants to treat the wound properly, but Peej would never let him._

_Peej, eventually, slowly raises his head. But before he can reach Chris’ eyes, he’s caught by the turtle neck that Chris is suddenly wearing. He’s never worn anything like this before._

Oh god, _Peej whines._ Not him too.

_Carefully, Peej reaches his fingers up to Chris’ neck and hooks them round the collar - but a hand closes round his wrist tightly, begging him to stop. Peej looks up, and Chris looks down. He looks desperately sad. Hesitantly, Chris takes his hand away._

_Images involuntarily come to mind of Dan throwing Chris to the ground, or against a wall, wrapping his fingers round his throat and terrorising him with the threat of death._

“You’ll behave,” _Dan had terrorised Peej with as his fingers were squeezing his throat, the first day that Peej was truly in his captivity._ “You behave, or I get rid of you. Do you understand?”

_That was first time that Peej had begged him, in all his shame. He doesn’t want to remember._

That bastard,  _Peej seethes to himself._ He really did hurt him, after all. And I  _thanked_  him, in my stupidity.

_“It’s okay,” Chris tells him softly, running a gentle hand through Peej’s hair to reassure him. “I’m okay.” He forces out a laugh. “Don’t you start worrying about me.”_

But I can’t help it,  _Peej says to himself._ And I’ve never felt like this about you before. I don’t know what to do about that.

_Slowly, shyly, Peej continues pulling Chris’ turtle neck down, and, with his heart in his throat, reaches forwards and presses a gentle kiss to the damaged skin._

_Chris instantly pulls him back. “Peej!” he gasps out, eyes wide in shock. “We’ve never… You’ve never even let me kiss you properly.” His face is turning quickly pink. “Don’t feel you have to rush yourself. I’m not going anywhere.”_

_Peej just smiles back. “It’s okay,” he reassures him. “I want to do this.”_

_Chris, unable to hide his grateful smile, lets Peej continue._

If there’s one thing I’ve always known about Dan and his videos, it’s that he loves to plan.

He started with a small notebook, like mine, to jot all his notes into - now, he has a full A3 spread absolutely covered with a mess of ideas. And, on the back of that, is his plan for the plot.

“So the Evil Santa Bear is going to kidnap Lioness, right?” he tells me, in a voice which is  _very_ overexcited. “And we have to travel through different lands to get to his lair, and then we use the Magical Bauble of Destiny to defeat him and save Lioness.” He stares at me with a great big, beaming smile. “How does that sound?”

I just sit there and laugh.

“What?” he cries, hurt. “Why are you laughing?”

“No, it’s not like that,” I reassure him. “It just… You tried to make it sound so serious, but with names like  _Evil Santa Bear_ , I can’t take it seriously.”

For that, Dan hits me. “You prick,” he seethes.

“Call me what you like, it still sounds hilarious.”

Dan doesn’t argue with that. “Anyway - it is okay?”

I suppress my laughter. “Yeah, of course it does. It’s amazing.” He beams again. “Who exactly is travelling on this adventure again? Me, you…?”

“… Lion, and the audience,” Dan finishes for me. “We can cut the adventure into different sections - like this - ” He starts to draw lines between different events that he’s written down. “ - and make a bunch of sequential videos from it, instead of just one.”

An idea suddenly comes to mind.

“How about,” I suggest thoughtfully, “we make it interactive?”

Dan freezes and stares at me again, completely blank. “ _Interactive?_ ” he repeats. “How?”

I let myself smile. Oh, Dan must be such a beginner. “At the end of each video, we give the viewer a choice: two options of what action we should take in the story. We could film two separate scenarios and link them both to this video, one a deadend, one progressing the story, and we won’t be posting video after video to the channel - it will only appear as one.”

Dan stares at me like I’m some sort of wizard. “Show me.”

I let myself laugh. “I can’t do that until we’ve actually got some footage to upload,” I remind him, which makes him deflate.

“Alright,” he groans. “Then let’s film something quick. I don’t care what - I just want you to show me.” He pushes himself up from the cold snow-covered floor. “It’s getting cold out here, anyway.”

“Wait,” I call after him, grabbing hold of his arm. “You want to take us back home?”

Dan stares at me, a little sadly. “I do,” he admits in a quiet voice. “Now that it’s snowing, we can’t spend all our time out here anymore. Even you must see that.”

I bow my head, agreeing.

“Alright.”

We get up and make our way back to the house, taking all of Dan’s notes with us.

We sneak inside - I’m holding my breath, dreading another confrontation - but the house is silent.

“She’s not here,” Dan mutters as he takes his shoes off. “So stop worrying.”

I get the feeling that he’s irritated right now. I don’t blame him: my issues with my mum have dragged him out of the house time and time again, into the cold, and he hasn’t complained once. It’s awfully nice of him, but I know he’s just dealing with it.

Once our shoes and coats are off, as Dan makes his way up the stairs I wrap my arms around him and squeeze him affectionately.

“What… what are you doing?” he asks, confused.

I hug him tightly. “Thank you,” I mumble, resting my head against the top of his back. “You’ve put up with my family troubles all throughout this weekend, and I haven’t thanked you for it yet. You didn’t have to be so nice. I know how annoying I must have been. So thank you.”

Dan lets out a little laugh and pulls me off him. “Stop it,” he chuckles. “It’s alright. What else was I supposed to do? When I fall in love with AmazingPhil, I have to deal with the whole package.”

He takes us up the stairs and into my room, where he sets up the camera, ready to film.

“Okay then,” I start, switching the camera on. “So what do you want to do? Have a little chat? Do a little sketch? Or do you want to actually film something we might use?”

Dan doesn’t say anything. When I look around, he’s taking his shirt off.

“ _Oh god_ ,” I mumble under my breath. “You can’t be serious.”

Dan shoots me a cheeky smirk. “You should know me by now,” he taunts. “I’ve been starved, Phil. We haven’t even been able to cuddle these last few days. So, now that we finally have the house to ourselves again, what else am I supposed to do?”

When I don’t say anything, Dan crawls over to me and pulls off my shirt too.

“You feel the same, right?” he asks me - that subtle hint of anxiety is prominent again.

“Of course I do,” I reply, being honest. I can’t lie: I do miss doing things like that with Dan, and that’s something I thought I’d feel, because up until recently I’ve gone my entire life fine without it. But I can tell that my libido is nowhere near as high as Dan’s. I thought it was just because he was a virgin. But nothing seems to have changed.

“You planned this from the moment you asked me to show you, didn’t you?”

Dan can’t help but grin. “Sue me: I’m a horny, deprived teenager.”

He kisses me quickly and brings me over to the bed, and from there, he pulls me on top of him, signalling for me to take control.

But, for a moment, I hesitate.

He pulls our mouths away. “What’s wrong?”

I shake my head. “Nothing. It’s just… well, we’ve never actually had sex here… on my bed.” I feel my cheeks starting to heat up. “It feels weird.”

Dan wraps his arms round my back and pulls me closer. “Don’t stress about it,” he purrs, wanting to get me in the mood. “That’s just how our lives have panned out. There’s nothing weird about it.” Suggestively, he starts to play his fingers along the groove of my spine. “Let’s just fix that right away, then.”

I don’t say anything more, instead letting Dan kiss me, and reel me in, and roam his hands along my back.

 _Peej sits on the edge of the bed thinking to himself about small things._ Is this  _his_ room or  _our_  room now? Are we official, or is this just a trial? Isn’t that my decision? Should I try to see Phil again, or avoid him? No, avoiding him is the only thing I can do right now.  _His back itches like crazy, but there’s nothing he can do about his - his hands can’t reach._ Goddammit, Phil. Why did you have to do this, of all things?

_The door creaks open, and in comes Chris again - he has a habit now of keeping an eye on Peej, ever since that day. Peej won’t object though: he knows he needs the company, otherwise he’ll go insane. Chris sits himself down next to him without a word, and Peej doesn’t break the silence either. It isn’t too bad, surprisingly. But they both know that the air around them is filled with things they should be talking about._

_“I…” Peej chokes out nervously. “I have to go home soon. For Christmas.” He slumps in his place._

_“I know,” Chris sighs back - there would be no point trying to hide his disappointment. But he always knew this arrangement was temporary. “Will you come back, though?”_

_Peej understands this question very well:_ are we continuing this?  _That’s what Chris is really asking._

_He tangles his fingers together in his lap. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly, the words feeling like they hurt to even say. “I can’t tell you what you want to hear, and I’m sorry. But… but I…” He lifts his head and catches Chris’ gaze, staring right back at him, with expectation and hope sparkling far too obviously in his eyes. “… I want to stay with you. I… need to.”_

_Silence builds between them - no, not silence, an empty space._

_Chris reaches his hands forwards and cups Peej’s face, bringing them slightly closer together. “Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, in a whisper, desperately trying not to lick his own lips in anticipation. “Just once. Just to satisfy me. Make it my Christmas present.” He says that with a little laugh._

_Peej can’t help but feel a bit nauseous at the idea. This would be the third man he’s ever had kiss him, and the first two weren’t exactly the most sane of scenarios._

_Regardless, he swallows down the memories and focuses whole-heartedly on Chris before him. “Sure,” he says, still shyly and unsure._

_Chris had confessed to Peej not too far into their friendship. They met at a YouTuber meet-up a while ago - Peej thinks, though he can’t really remember - and apparently, according to Chris, his feelings and their friendship grew at the same time. The first time since then that they met up in person was the Halloween Gathering, and that night, Chris was planning on taking Peej home - not for anything extreme, he knew that would never happen - but Peej rushed back to his own place instead without a word of excuse to Chris. He hadn’t minded, though, because that night he had gotten what he wanted: ever since his confession, Peej hadn’t responded to his advances for something more between them, but on Halloween night Peej agreed to give them a chance. Peej didn’t know his sexuality then, and still doesn’t, but he was already curious and confused enough to let Chris help him in his exploration._

_Peej won’t ever let himself admit this, and certainly not to anyone else, but Phil was the catalyst for these curiosities. Not only that, but those curiosities haven’t gone away, and Chris is an unconscious attempt at a distraction - a diversion - from that dangerous course. Besides, even if he really_ did  _want something with Phil, merely feeling something like that would get nothing short of a death sentence from his guard dog - no, his_ handler _._

 _Carefully, Chris pulls Peej closer, and lightly meets their lips. It’s fervent, and shy, and certainly sweet, and nothing like Peej has felt before. It makes him smile, even into the kiss. His own hands reach up and wrap around Chris’ neck, and he lets himself kiss him back, unashamed, content with this little curiosity._ Yeah _, Peej thinks._ This is good. I can be happy with him, and only him. I can finally cut them off.

_When Chris pulls away, his fingers are gently skimming the sensitive skin at the base of Peej’s neck._

_“Let me treat your wound,” he blurts out suddenly. “Before you go. I can’t bear the thought of it going untreated.”_

_Peej opens his mouth to object, but Chris shuts him up with the palm of his hand._

_“_ Please _,” he begs._

_Peej’s heart starts to race in his chest, but he knows, with someone finally caring this much, this unconditionally, for him and him alone, he can’t bear to say no._

_As Chris disappears to retrieve what Peej guesses to be disinfectant or something like that, he takes off his shirt and lays himself down on Chris’ bed, grabbing a pillow and tucking it beneath his head. His arms wrap underneath it and his fingers dig in, expecting pain. Maybe this would be a good metaphor, for something: having to submit to torturous pain by those you trust because without it you don’t get better._ Pain as a coping mechanism _, Peej considers._ Nope. Doesn’t make a single bit of sense.

_When Chris returns, the room falls into silence. A tense silence. Peej’s fingers squeeze the pillow tightly, because he knows Chris is staring at the wound lettered so clearly across his back._

_“Oh, love…” he sighs. “Why didn’t you show me earlier?”_

_Peej doesn’t answer that, and Chris doesn’t push him, because they both already know the answer: shame._

_Lightly, carefully, Chris strokes his fingers along Peej’s back - not the scar, but along his spine. Peej can’t help but flinch at the touch, suddenly feeling incredibly sensitive._ Oh _, he thinks, feeling his cheeks flush._ That’s new.

_“I’m sorry,” Chris murmurs sadly, “but this will sting.” His fingers fall away. “Look at me.”_

_Peej obliges._

_Chris’ hand falls into his hair and he lets out an admiring sigh. “Know that it’s me. I’m not trying to hurt you: I want to see you get better. Okay?”_

_Peej nods softly, contently. He doesn’t deserve this man. “Okay.”_

 


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, angst, family issues, emotional manipulation, smut (fingering and masturbating, sex, unprotected)**

The next day, sitting in our room, with the door locked tight, and piles of food and drink stacked up like a bunker, me and Dan worked on our  _Interactive Christmas Adventure._ Together, we planned every detail of the journey, down to the separate choices and their outcomes; I scripted Lion and Lioness’ parts and named the lands that we were going to; and Dan constructed the entire script for us both. That takes us the whole day. In fact, I fall asleep before we even reach the ending.

The day after, after a quick couple of showers and a prompt breakfast before mum can wake up, we get to work filming it all. We work through the adventure in chronological order, just to make sure that we don’t miss any footage. We start with the introduction, stepping outside in the freezing snow-cold weather in our coats - and, just to top it off, I wear some big fluffy gloves and Christmassy antlers - and, with Dan filming, I recite his script word for word.

(It takes a few attempts - one, of which, quickly ends with me on my butt, and Dan in hysterics.)

Next, we head into my room and strip away all our extra layers, fetch Lion and Lioness, and film the next scene. This time, I film it, and Dan voices the  _Evil Santa Bear_  (bless his imagination). From just watching him do this one scene, I realise that Dan really can’t act. He’s too scripted and awkward, and it makes it almost painful to sit through. Nevertheless, I won’t complain, because we’re not trying to make a masterpiece here - we’re simply having fun. Plus our skills are in creativity and video editing, not acting.

Then, once that’s done - it only takes a couple of takes, including Dan bursting out laughing because he’s finally learned how impossible is it to be serious with this story - we head into the living room, taking Lion with us. Even as we’re filming everything now, I’m wondering what extra little edits I can add in later to really vamp up our work - maybe I’ll drop Dan’s Santa Bear voice another half an octave, just to see how it sounds.

Once we’ve got a good take, and lucky timing because we  _really_ suck at keeping it professional when there’s two of us, my mum walks in. My face instantly falls - I can tell, from the look on her face, that she wants to talk.

“Phil,” she says -  _solemnly_. I wasn’t expecting that. “Could we have a talk? Please?”

 _Oh god_ , I think, glancing to Dan. She isn’t smiling.

Dan puts on a pleasant expression and stands himself up. “I’ll give you some privacy,” he hums as he walks out behind her. I can guess he’s probably going to press his ear against that door. I wouldn’t blame him - I’d do the same.

Mum walks over to me - ah, there it is, her forced little smile, but it’s smaller and sadder than usual. Now that I think about it, I wonder what she’s been doing these past few days, with me avoiding her all the time.

“Sit down,” she says softly, as she takes her seat on the sofa. A bit reluctantly, and hesitantly, I sit myself on the armchair opposite her, leaning over my legs inquisitively. Whatever she has to say, it’s certainly going to be interesting.

She doesn’t look at me, keeping her head down instead. For a moment, all she does is take a slow, deep breath.

“I came back here because I planned to spend this Christmas with you, Phil,” she admits in a shy voice. “And now I know that’s not what you want to hear. But we haven’t seen each other in so long, and I wondered how you were getting on, so…” She shakes her head. “But as you’ve made it clear that you don’t want me here, I guess I’ll just go.”

I sit there blankly, silently. What the hell am I supposed to say to that? She finally decides to play the sympathy card, and I’m supposed to bow down in pity? In guilt?

She finally looks up at me - just a glance, and a timid one at that, watchfully picking up on my reaction.

She takes in another breath. “I guess, to you, I’ve never been the best mother,” she continues. “But I tried my best. All I wanted was to do my best for you, and bring you up properly - ”

“Mum,” I cut in, shooting her a glare. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Her mouth is stuck open, like she’s frozen in place. Then, in one big movement, she shuts it again.

“What, and you think you could have done a better job?” she suddenly spits out. “You’re hardly  _living,_  you know? You don’t have a job, you’re not eating the right foods, you can’t even move out, and you’re probably scrounging off that kid you have hibernating here - ”

“It’s  _Dan_ ,” I seethe, clenching my hands into fists. “And he’s not the one hiding here when he shouldn’t - that’s  _you_. So stop acting like you hold some claim to me, because I don’t want you here.” I take a deep breath in, feeling my tongue burn relentlessly. I can’t make myself stop. This has been a long-time coming. “And I’m not scrounging off Dan - he’s my guest. We’re friends, and he’s staying round my house, because that’s a thing you do with friends - spend time with them.” I’m standing up before I know it, towering over her. “And I have a job! I make videos. Sure, I don’t get paid now, but I can do, if I keep working at it. This is what my whole Masters degree was for! And if you can’t support me in that, then there’s really no point in you sticking around in my life at all.”

For a moment, my mum does nothing: she doesn’t move, or speak, or even blink. She just stares at me, wide-eyed.

She breathes in slowly.

“Okay.” She says this slowly, too. “If that’s what you want to do, and that’s your plan right now, then I suppose I’ll support you.” She pushes herself up onto her feet too, and wipes herself down. “So what can I do, to support you?”

I want to laugh at her. This is the best she can do? This isn’t fake support; it’s a mockery.

Suddenly, in the midst of it all, the living room door squeaks open, and I glance over to see Dan shyly poking his head round the corner. I’d almost forgotten he was there.

“Actually, Miss Lester,” he speaks quietly. “We were thinking of what to do for a certain character in this story we’re filming. Would you… would you like to help us out?”

I stare at him in surprise. I mean, I get that he was listening in, but to contribute? Who ever dares involve themselves in the disputes of other families? Plus, this is such a lie - he’s going out of his way to involve  _her_ in our Christmas adventure?

“I… I guess I could do that…?” my mum replies with, unsure. I don’t blame her - I’m equally as confused.

So that’s what we do - Dan works at editing his notes and we hand my mum the script, and I fetch some items to make up her costume.  _Ice Demon_ , I think is what she’s going to be, instead of some cuddly toy from my room.  _Fuck, what on earth would an Ice Demon wear? A scarf?_ I pick up a piece of blue tinsel and decide that will do. Then I find another pair of cat ears - seriously, how many of these do I have? - and I take those with me as well.

Downstairs, and made up, my mum stands awkwardly with the camera on a tripod intimidatingly in front of her. And, for some bizarre reason, she’s wearing sunglasses.

“Mum,” I sigh. “You realise we’re in an Ice Cave?  _Ice_ and  _cave_ don’t mean sunglasses - at all.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “Dan suggested I wear them.”

I hit him in the arm for that.

“Hey!” he whines. “I thought they’d look good! I want to keep them!”

Eventually, I just sigh and let him have his way.

“Err,” mum hesitates, with us standing behind the camera. “What exactly am I supposed to do?”

“Act,” Dan calls. “Be an Ice Demon.”

“What does an Ice Demon do?”

He shrugs. “Whatever you want. No one’s going to question it.”

We get on with it. Even so, it’s still painful. My mum can’t seem to  _do_ it. She has to shake and giggle and complain she feels silly. Seriously, why did Dan decide this would be a good idea again?

“Dan,” I whisper to him as mum figures out how she thinks an Ice Demon would move. “Exactly why did you ask her to do this?”

He leans back over to me to quieten us down further. “To get you two on better terms. She’s only come to see you now because she feels guilty about leaving you. So if you appease her, she’s be happy and go away.”

My eyes widen. “You want my mum to leave?”

“Well, yeah,” he admits without a hint of shame. “It’s not like you don’t, either. I want Christmas to be just the two of us, even if we have to sneak out to my house and leave her here.”

Wow. I don’t know why, but that surprises me. I thought Dan was nicer than this. Does that mean he’s actually hated sneaking off with me for the past week? It would make sense. Why else would he intervene now, and try to solve it?

“But,” I contradict. “You heard our conversation, right?” I remind him. “She said she was going to leave. Why didn’t you just let that run its course?”

Dan rolls his eyes at me. “Because, silly, she wasn’t really going to leave.”

“Huh? Really?”

“No, of course not!” He’s almost laughing at me. “She was playing the sympathy card, trying to guilt-trip you into begging her not to go. Even if you ignored that, she would have stayed.”

At that, I just stare him. There’s no way that can be true… right? “How do you know that?”

Strangely, to top it all off, Dan just shrugs.

“Are you ready?” Dan calls to her, taking us both by surprise. “Just say the line whenever you want.”

And  _finally_ , after a whole minute of silence, my mum  _actually_ tries the line.

“I am a Snow Demon!” she recounts through a nasal voice. “And I’m going to kill you!” She laughs - well, cackles, and she’s waving her arms like she’s clawing at an invisible door.

Dan looks at me for approval. “I mean, it was supposed to be  _Ice_ Demon, but it’ll do?”

I nod - I don’t want to suffer through her trying again.

“Right!” He claps his hands together. “Time for the two options! What are they again?”

“Umm…” I grab the script. “Bogus one, I use you like a Pokémon. Real one, I serve her coffee.”

Dan frowns at me. “And why does coffee work again?”

I show him a little half-smile. “She melts.”

He stares at me blankly for a moment. Then he lets out a tired groan like he would to a terrible pun and takes the script out of my hand.

Once we finish those scenes, mum goes and hides back in her room - I don’t think she wants us to drag her into the filming anymore, and I’m more than happy with that.

I walk with Dan out into the garden to film the next scenes.

“Did you really have to get her to say ’ _I’m melting_ ’?” I whine.

Dan just giggles. “She was melting - how could you ask me to miss an opportunity like that?”

I just shake my head in shame. “You’re such a nerd.”

Inside the shed, we film the final scenes. Or should I say… in  _Evil Santa Bear’s Lair?_ Oh god, no, that’s still cringey.

“I hate that umbrella bit…” Dan groans after we’ve filmed it. “It doesn’t make any sense. And, personally, I think the hawk thing is more like your logic than the umbrella. So fuck you.”

I just laugh and let him moan. “Once you’re done,” I chuckle, “we should film the last bit. I actually haven’t read it yet, so can I see the script please?”

Strangely, unusually, Dan’s face falls slightly at that, and he quietly puts the script in my hands.

I watch him carefully. “What?” I ask him, worried. “What’s wrong with you all of a sudden?”

“Nothing - just read,” he mumbles back.

I decide, after a moment of trying to search him, just to read it - he wrote it without me, after all, and it’s probably why he’s acting so strange all of a sudden.

_Dan: I think I know what I need to do… The Bauble of Destiny… I think I understand… I have to sacrifice myself._

_Phil: No Dan…! Please, don’t! There must be another way!_

_Lion: Don’t do it Dan!_

_Dan: But Phil - ! This is not my channel! I’m not even meant to be here!_

_Phil: Don’t say that Dan! Think about what you’re doing!_

I look up at him, shocked.

“Dan…” I gasp out. “Why would you… Why did you write it like this?”

He doesn’t look at me. “Why not? It’s more dramatic, right?”

“It’s supposed to be a happy ending!” I’m yelling now. “It’s a Christmas adventure! This is just depressing!”

Dan, to my further shock, huffs at me in disgust.

“It’s just a story, for fuck’s sake. It’s not like I’m really dying. What’s the big deal?”

I’m open-mouthed now. “You don’t really think a happy ending ends without you, do you?” I accuse him as aggressively as I can. “I don’t want to even  _think_ about you dying, okay? Can’t we just throw the Bauble at him or something? That would be funnier!”

“I don’t want funny, Phil!” Dan cries back.

At that, I fold my arms. “I thought you didn’t care about the stupid story.”

With that, Dan just deflates, and all his aggression leaves him. He just slumps there in his place, sulking in silence.

In that silence, I carefully wrap my arm around his shoulders.

“Hey…” I call, as soothingly gentle as I can. “You don’t have to write something like this to get my attention, okay? You know you mean something to me. You’re special. How could you question that?”

He doesn’t answer me.

“Is it because we haven’t spent much time together lately?” I suggest. “Properly?”

Dan pauses. He slowly nods his head.

“I’m sorry,” he cries quietly. “I didn’t mean to make you mad. I just wanted you to care.”

I pull him further into me, and Dan finally faces me. “I’ll always care. I never don’t care about you. Every minute… whether we’re together or not… I’m thinking about you.” I move myself closer. “So don’t you dare think I’m not as obsessed with you.”

I kiss him quickly, before he can contradict me. But it doesn’t matter apparently, because Dan falls straight into my arms, kissing me back. His hands reach up and settle themselves round my neck, tugging me desperately even closer, and we end up falling on the floor, with Dan beneath me, still pulling me into him. I open my mouth slightly and slip my tongue inside, playing with his, and Dan lets out a high-pitch moan as I do.

I pull away. “You want to add garden shed to the list of places we have sex?” I suggest with a little chuckle.

Dan just eagerly nods his head and brings our lips together again.

Without thinking, our clothes are already off, and my lips are pressed against his neck, making him let out these cute little whines. He’s already hard, and his body is shaking - maybe that’s because there’s no heating in here, but my skin feels boiling hot.

“Phil…” Dan gasps, his fingers clutching tighter onto the back of my shirt. “I don’t have a condom.”

“Shit.” My heart drops in disappointment. “Me neither.”

I try to pull myself back, but Dan’s hands move up to my neck and bring me back down. “It’s alright. I don’t want you to use one anyway.”

My eyes widen. “Dan, we can’t - ! That’s dangerous!”

“We’ve done it before,” he shrugs, like that wasn’t bad already. “If either of us have anything, we’ve shared it by now. So what does it matter?”

His fingers press into my neck and suddenly he’s kissing me again, shutting me up.

“Wait,” I cry, pushing myself back again. “At least tell me you have lube. I’m not going in dry.”

Dan shows me a smile and gestures to his jeans (that now lay near the shed door). “I always have lube on me, silly.”

That  _really_ makes me raise an eyebrow. “… You’re weird.”

He winks. “Just horny.”

I reach over to his jeans and retrieve the lube from his pocket, open the pocket, and pour it onto my fingers. Then, as I kneel over Dan, balancing myself with my left hand by his head, I close my eyes and work the lube over my erection. At the touch, I can’t help but moan - I haven’t used my hand on myself like this in a long time.

Dan’s fingers stroke along my cheek and neck, and he tilts my head up slightly to look at him again.

“I love seeing you like this,” he mutters seductively. This voice isn’t the same as his usual, but it feels familiar, and, for some reason, it sends a shiver through me. “I want to watch you masturbate sometime.”

For some reason, I imagine having Dan tied up before me, forced to watch me please myself without him getting anything. I’d make him starved for contact and desperate to please me himself. But, the way he said it reminds me of the way I’ve said it to him, and when I think about  _that_ , I imagine Dan on top of me, working himself with both hands, spurred on by my words. And  _then_ I remember what he’s  _really_  seen - his cameras, and the shower - and suddenly I’m wondering what on earth he’s thinking.

But, instead, I just laugh, throwing all of that out of my mind. “Who knows - we could do it together.”

Dan shakes his head. “I would never be able to keep myself off you.”

I drag my hand away from myself and shuffle myself down Dan’s body, opening his legs ready.

“Wait,” he cries, pushing my hand away. “I want… want to do it myself.”

Before I can discuss it with him, Dan quickly reaches his hand under himself and slips a finger inside, letting out a little moan.

“Dan!” I gasp. He isn’t using any lube. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

Dan hesitates before answering. “It’s okay,” he replies with. “I like it.”

In astonishment, I can only let out a surprised laugh. “You really are amazing.”

I lean back over Dan as he continues, kissing him endlessly, feeling myself fall into him. Like this, it’s like the world around us disappears, or at least we’re hidden away, left in a timeless space to our own devices. Even just as we kiss, we’re taken there.  _There_ , none of our problems matter. Nothing between us, or outside of our relationship, can come with us. I wonder if this is what Dan was looking for, when he started all of this. I wonder if he feels the same, if he always has, even before he had me.

No more words fall between us after all that. When I push myself into him, we both let out a breathy moan, and Dan’s fingers grip tightly on my back. His arms wrap all the way round my body so he’s pulling me closer, and I keep my mouth pressed against his, mainly because I can’t bring myself to move away. Against my lips, Dan mutters my name, and against his, I say that I love him, again and again, because I’m not thinking anymore. There’s no barrier, no inhibition, no fear.

We fix our clothes and hair once we’re done and finish filming. Out of pure laziness (and, honestly, exhaustion), we leave the ending as it is - who knows? It might bring Dan some attention for once. People might recognise him then.

“Now what?” Dan asks, eagerness in his voice, but a yawn escaping him as he says it.

I smile, amused at the sight. “Now we go to bed, Dan.” He whines in objection. “We’re too tired! And it’s getting dark!” He sits there and pouts, so I place my hand gently on his thigh. “We’ll finish this tomorrow, okay?”

“Umm, I don’t know about you, but I’m dead by this point, Phil.” He dares to stick his tongue out at me. “So  _you’ll_ be finishing this tomorrow.”

I allow myself a sneaky smirk. It makes Dan frown. “What?” I don’t say anything. He curls into himself defensively. “What are you thinking…?”

Suddenly, I pounce, leaping over him and pinning him to the ground. Before he can even try to escape, I bear my claws and start to tickle him.

“Fuck! No! You asshole!” Dan screams as he squirms under. But he’s giggling, whether he wants to or not. “Mercy! I’m sorry! Have mercy!”

I decide to let him go, resting my fingers on his chest.

He’s panting now. “You  _ass_ ,” he seethes.

I just giggle. Dan giggles too.

In the morning, I’m woken up by mum knocking on the door. She’s calling me.

“You better go see her,” Dan groans sleepily, curled up in my arms as always.

I groan too drag myself out of bed.

“What?” I ask, my voice husky since it’s morning, as I swing the door open. I look down as mum stands there to see a suitcase by her side. “Wait… What’s going on?”

I look back up at her and see her trying to force a sad smile. “I’m leaving,” she admits sadly. “I don’t want you to feel guilty in anyway - this is entirely my decision, and entirely my fault. I’m sorry for not being a better mother to you, Phil.” Carefully, she reaches a hand up to my face and I let her place it motherly on my cheek. Then, she shows me a true smile. “I don’t want to ruin your Christmas out of spite.”

She drops her hand from my face and instead brings up a present to my view.

“You don’t have to open it now - but, please, don’t just throw it out. I hope this can make up a little for my lack of support.”

Hesitantly - well, more confused than anything - I take the gift out of her hands. “Umm… thank you, mum.”

“Come here, love,” she says, rolling her hand to get me to lean down. Reluctantly, I do, and she presses a kiss to my cheek. “Have a lovely Christmas, Phil.”

She rolls the suitcase away and I just watch her go, feeling more confused than anything.

The door shuts quietly and I slip back into the bedroom with Dan.

  
“So that’s it?” he asks quietly. He’s sitting up now on the bed, gradually waking up.

“How did you know?” I ask him back instead, climbing onto the bed with him. “How did you know she was going to leave?”

He simply shrugs. “Well, she wasn’t really going to stay anyway. It’s obvious she didn’t want to be here. My guess? She only came to see you for her conscience. She didn’t want things to be tense between the two of you.”

I just sigh in relief.

Staring at Dan, I can’t help but play my fingers through his hair. He really is beautiful. Honestly, I never thought otherwise, but it’s hard to ignore it now. I don’t want to ever stop looking at him.

“You must be extra relieved,” Dan tells me quietly. “She never mentioned anything to falsify your claim about the family holiday.”

My hand freezes in his hair.

“Did you really think I fell for that?” he laughs. “It was such a bad lie.”

I drop my hand from him. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be. It’s amusing that you thought you’d gotten away with it all this time. I’m not stupid, Phil. I’m not Peej.” That catches my attention. “If I was still mad, you’d know.”

When I don’t say anything, Dan brings both his hands to my jaw and holds my head up for him.

“Now you can really relax,” he sighs gently. “You’re not hiding anything from me anymore.”

In my desperation for relief, I believe him.

 


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: fluff! LOADS of fluff, brief violence/horror (saw and implied pretend mutilation)**

“What are you doing?” Dan asks me when he gets back from washing his hair. He sits down on the bed beside me, peering over my shoulder. I have my laptop out, and he’s watching me on Skype. “Who are you messaging?”

“Just some YouTubers,” I answer back. “I thought, instead of ending the adventure where it is - you know, with your death - we could make some  _presents_  for the audience instead, as thanks for watching it.”

Dan frowns at me. “ _Presents?_ ” he repeats back. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I thought I could leave that up to everyone. They could film something special, or just hold up some sweets - something like that. It doesn’t have to be serious. And, this way, we’re getting a little promotion for our own channels, as well promoting theirs. It’s win-win.”

Dan’s frown lifts, and he’s starting to smile. “That sounds great. Could we make some presents too? That sounds like a load of fun.”

I hum in consideration. “Actually, I don’t see why not.”

We eat breakfast together before filming anything. Since my mum has gone again, we just have some cereal - Dan wasn’t quite ready to cook any pancakes for us yet. First, we film the last scenes of the adventure (well, basically Dan holds the camera and I run out of the shed). After that, we go back to my room and think of some  _present_ ideas.

I let Dan think of them all, because he’s incredibly excited for it, and I couldn’t dream of taking that away from him.

“We should…! We should do a cover of Breaking Free!” he yells excitedly, practically bouncing on the spot in front of the camera. “And then…! Then we could speed it up, and make it really squeaky!”

After that…

“Let’s read them their fortune!”

_“All your dreams are dead.”_

“Dan!” I cry. “That’s just mean!”

And after that…

“I know what we should do…” Dan says, almost… seductively? “We should show them our sex tape.”

My eyes go wide. “Umm… which… which one are you talking about?”

He starts to laugh. “I’m joking, silly! Not a  _real_ sex tape! I told you - they’re for my eyes only.” At that, he winks. “Let’s make a silly fake one.”

So we do. And it’s hilarious.

“Dan, can I just clarify,” I say to him afterwards. “We’re never going to have sex with lion ever, okay? He’s off limits.”

He just laughs. “I don’t know. He seems to enjoy that,” he teases.

“Don’t you  _dare_.”

And after that…

“Can I film something else?” Dan suggests. “As a bogue option, like, before starting the adventure?”

I turn back to him. “What do you mean?”

Dan hesitates, considering, before saying “I want to show you when it’s done.”

“Oh,” I hum back. “Okay. I’ll go have a shower then.”

When I come back, Dan says he’s all done, so he sits me done in front of the laptop and tells me to click on the first video named  _Poke Dan_.

“Should I be scared?” I ask him nervously.

Dan shakes his head, but his lips hold a telling smirk.

As the vide starts, the word  _*poke*_ appears on my screen, with a siren noise, and then it cuts to Dan holding a hand over his presumably injured eye.

 _“Ow! Aw! What was that for? Oh my gosh, my eye! Ow!”_ He sighs afterwards as well.

Then the video ends.

“That just makes me feel sad,” I respond, turning round to Dan as he reaches over to the laptop again. “And also a bit superior.”

“Shut up,” he laughs. “Now watch this one - pretend you’ve chosen to poke me again.”

I turn back to the laptop.

This time, two  _*poke*_ s appear on screen, and then Dan screams in mock pain, holding his other eye.

_“Ah! My other eye! Why are you doing this to me?! Ow!”_

He takes his hands away and stares intimidatingly into the camera, wagging his finger at me.

_“Don’t you do that again!”_

The video cuts off, so Dan clicks on the final one.

“Umm…” I whine. “I’m worried.”

Dan doesn’t say anything - he just lets the video play.

This time, Dan’s hand jumps up to the camera with a loud  _“AHA!”_  and there’s a loud chime, making me jump, cueing some scary music.

_“Thought you’d poke me again, did you? Well - ! I saw what you did to Phil in the Space Adventure - ”_

I can’t help but laugh at that.

_“ - I’m not having any of that… no…”_

_Oh my Jesus Christ,_ he’s got a saw.

As the video keeps playing, I turn my head away, and mock screams fill my ears. My heart’s beating wildly. By the time I turn back to the screen, there’s only Dan sitting there, holding up his saw, staring menacingly into the camera.

“Dan what the  _fuck_!” I scream out afterwards. “That’s not Christmassy at all!”

“But,” he defends. “It’s good, right?”

I lay my hand on my chest and feel my heart beat going crazy.

“At least, after that, people will realise they should have clicked the real link instead.” Dan laughs - fucking  _laughs._

“You’re twisted…” I cry back in shock. “Anyway - I want to go outside now, and see the snow.”

I pushy myself up onto my feet and head out before he can object - I just want to get outside right now and forget about that. I don’t want to think about things like that anymore. Dan isn’t like that, he’s sweet and kind, and right now it’s nearly Christmas. Please just let me have a good time.

Dan takes a while to join me. He’s brought the camera with him and he’s wearing that adorable hat again.

“Phil,” he calls in a concerned voice. “Are you alright?”

I shrug my shoulders. “Mostly…” I mumble back. “I just need some distracting.”

For a moment, Dan just stands there thinking, and then he’s holding out the camera to me.

“Here,” he says. “Click record and face it to me.”

“Why?” I ask him, taking it into my hands regardless.

“It’s a surprise.” He smiles and stands right in front of me.

“Okay… go.”

“Congratulations! You won a forward snow angel!”

Suddenly, Dan runs over to the front garden, where a huge blanket of snow lies, and he falls face first into it. I have to hold in my laughter desperately. Then, he starts moving his limbs - oh, I get it! A snow angel!

After a while, I can’t contain my laughter, and it burst right out of my mouth loudly. Dan’s body stills and I hear him laughing into the snow.

I drop the camera and run up the him, telling him that I’ll help him get up and clean up, when all of a sudden his hand is round my leg, and I’m being dragged into the snow myself. We laugh together and start making snow angels simultaneously. I miss doing this. It’s nice to finally have a friend to do all these things with.

After that, we go back inside, change into some dry, warm clothes, and tuck ourselves into bed again. Tomorrow, we’ll have to do some editing, but right now, as I pull Dan’s body closer to mine, I can forget about that.

“Phil,” Dan moans sleepily into my chest.

“Yeah?”

“This is gonna be the best Christmas ever.”

I can’t help but smile. “I know.”

In the morning, we don’t even wash, dress, or eat before cracking on with the editing.

“So…” Dan calls as I’m working through the first -  _only the goddamn first_  - video of over twenty, not even counting the other  _presents_. “Explain how the uploading of all this is going to work.”

“Right - ” I get myself comfortable and load up the footage of…  _ahem_ … from the other day. “Say I go on my side channel here, and upload this as a video…” I work through doing exactly that. “But then, here, I click to make it  _unlisted._ ”

“Huh?” Dan says, blinking with confusion.

“It means this video is definitely on the channel, but it doesn’t show up on the list of videos. Instead…” I click off of that and open a link I had saved before, which brings me straight to the actual video I had uploaded a few days ago. “… You can only view it when you have the link.”

For a while, Dan just stares at the screen (it’s not the sex tape, I paused that).

“You’re a fucking wizard,” he gasps, making me laugh.

A little while after that, Dan huffs in frustration and stands himself up. “I’m bored - can we leave all that ‘til later?”

I turn round to him - he’s grabbing my hair straighteners. “Don’t you want to upload this before Christmas?” I suggest.

Dan actually pulls a funny face at that. “I mean, I don’t think it really matters right? Sure - we can try. But right now, I want to go out. We need to go shopping after all.”

My heart skips a heart, and I immediately jump up. “Oh shit! We haven’t even decorated the house yet!”

Dan smiles at my enthusiasm and we get to work instead.

We open the attic door and sneak inside, carrying out hoards of Christmas supplies and decorations. We already put up a small tree for the video, but this time I bring out a large one. As we work through the entire house, hanging up tinsel and bells and all different kinds of decorations, I play a CD of Christmas songs to  _really_ get us in the mood.

We bring down and set up the bigger tree together, spending a probably excessive amount of time perfecting its decorations: every bauble and piece of tinsel is blue or silver, and amongst all that there are chains of shiny blue beads and little fake presents. And, for the sparkly silver star to top it all off, in a fit of giggles I lift Dan up on my shoulders and he places it on himself.

“Right,” Dan pants once his feet are safely on the ground again. “We should head out now - ”

I interrupt by grabbing Dan’s wrists and pulling him into me. As he stumbles over me, I interlock our fingers and let out an excited giggle.

“What are you doing?!” he cries incredulously.

“Dance with me!” I laugh back.  _Rocking Around the Christmas Tree_ is playing, and I’ve always loved dancing to that one.

By  _dancing_ , we end up jumping around together, tugging each other around, and laughing in embarrassment at how bad we are. We don’t even reach the end of the song before Dan trips himself up and drags us both onto the floor with a loud  _thud_. I fall on top of him, panting into his mouth, and Dan doesn’t hesitate to kiss me. It isn’t exactly the most romantic of kisses - we’re laughing and breathless - but I don’t mind all that.

“Anyway,” Dan groans as he heaves himself up off the floor. “Can we  _finally_  go out now?”

He holds out a hand and helps me get up too. “Why are you so desperate to go?” I ask him curiously.

“I haven’t had a chance to go Christmas shopping yet,” he pouts. “I want to buy you a really good gift.”

I take Dan’s hand in my own and show him a soft smile. “You don’t have to get me anything,” I hum contently. “Don’t waste your limited money on me anymore, okay? You have to save it.”

He squeezes my hand back. “But I’m not wasting it! You’re the most important part of my life, Phil. How could that be a waste?”

That… I’ve heard him say such things countless times. Even so, it always sounds new. It always surprises me.

I bring my other hand up to his face and slip it gently through his hair, then bring him closer and press my lips to his. Dan takes to me straight away, and his grip on my hand gets tighter.

“You’re too perfect, Howell…” I sigh happily. It makes him blush sweetly.

So we go out.

We work our way through every possible shop in Manchester’s city centre. We go our separate ways for most of it so we don’t see what the other has bought.

Thanks to Dan constantly wanting to spend for me, I’ve been able to (for once) save quite a bunch of money, and now that we’re out on the town, I plan to buy not just one present for Dan, but quite a few - after all, has he received any Christmas presents through all these years without his family? Did he have any friends to give him any? Any extended family? Has he spent every Christmas alone?

I wonder, now, what we could have had if me and Dan had met a little sooner. If we had started talking right when he first saw my videos, he may not have spent so much time alone. We may been able to spend the last few Christmases together, even only on Skype. A sharp feeling of longing stings in my chest at the thought. I am… really wishing we had spent more time together. Now that’s something I’ve never done before.

Once all our shopping is done, we head to Starbucks for a little rest, and whilst we’re there we decide to try some other drinks off their Christmas menu. Christmas songs play quietly in the hushed background of this coffee shop, and with the addition of a multitude of Christmas decorations, it really feels like the perfect Christmas scene. Me and Dan sit together on one of the sofas and, covered by our coats, our hands lay entwined between us. I run my thumb over the back of his hand lightly - I’m not thinking about it, though. It’s like I were bouncing my leg beneath the table. Even if I were to try and stop it, I wouldn’t be able to hold myself back for long.

_“It’s alright,” I reassure. I take his hands in mine and run my thumbs along them softly. “I could wait all day for you. It’s always worth it.”_

_Yeah_ , I think, sighing happily to myself.  _That dream is now our reality._

Once we’re done, and we head outside, Dan slips his arm round mine and tugs me in the opposite direction to the car.

“What are you doing now?” I ask, confused, as he drags me further into the city centre. I think… are we heading towards Piccadilly Gardens?

“I want to see the city,” he tells me excitedly. “It’s starting to get dark already, and the street lights are all coming on. And, with the snow as well, it will be the perfect view…” He shows me a smile. “Don’t you think?”

My cheeks feel like they’re starting to flush. He means the Eye, of course he does.

“We're…” I whisper, hoping passers-by don’t hear. “We’re going on a date, aren’t we?”

Dan’s face brightens as he nods his head. “A Christmas date. Because it’s your favourite time of year. How else could I make sure to win your heart?”

We don’t say anything more as Dan drags me to the Gardens, quickly buying a couple of tickets for the Wheel, and settling us both on. The cages aren’t as big as the ones on the London Eye, and thank god, because on this one me and Dan get the whole cage to ourselves.

We slip our fingers together between us as the cage rises, keeping them warm against Winter’s chill.

“You were right…” I gasp out in joy as all the lights of Manchester fill my view like a starry night. “It really is beautiful up here.”

The higher we go, the further the busy buzz of the city grows from us, and as we reach the top, all I can hear is the sweet hush of a Winter’s night.

“I…” Dan starts. I turn my head to him in intrigue, but he’s not looking at me. His other hand tightens round the bar in front of us. He looks… nervous. “I really regret a lot of the things I’ve done to you… before… And if I could take it all back… if I could start all this again…”

I squeeze his hand tightly. “It’s okay,” I shush him softly. “I’ve forgiven you. I forgive everything.”

He finally turns his head to me and smiles.

There’s a whizz, and a bang, and lights flash brightly out of the corners of our eyes. How beautiful - there’s a fireworks display.

Dan lays his hand on my cheek and encourages me back to him.

“I wish…” he tries again, but it looks like words keep failing him. “It feels… feels like…” Eventually, he gives up, sighing and dropping his hand.

So, instead, with my heart beating loudly in my chest, I bring both my hands up to his face and keep him looking at me. That painful feeling of longing appears again, as I stare at him, but it isn’t as painful right now - instead, it feel numbing and nice, like I’ve finally gotten close enough to him.

“It feels like…” I try finishing for him. “… it’s finally love between us.”

His eyes brighten excitedly.

Even now, in this hushed place, that feeling of a bubble swells around us, and it’s like our cage is no longer moving. It’s like the whole world has fallen away around us, and all that’s left is me and Dan.

Without thinking, I pull him closer and meet our lips, kissing him softly, and Dan eagerly kisses me back. His hands reach up between us and settle over mine, and his fingers rest between my own. Just for a moment, I sneak my eyes open, and I see, that I’ve never seen before, how tense Dan’s eyelids are, and how they suddenly relax, and he looks calm, like he does when he’s asleep.

I close my eyes again and pull away - but before I get very far, Dan’s hands close firmly on mine and he leans back into me, and this time he’s the one kissing me. My fingers tighten on his skin, and I don’t want to ever let him go. My heart feels like it’s fluttering, like my whole chest is filled with restless butterflies, or maybe I’m melting right into this kiss.

It’s the twenty third now. Christmas is drawing very near. We spend most of the day wrapping up our presents in isolated rooms, plus Dan bought some chocolate decorations to hang up on the tree. We stack them all underneath the tree - as it turns out, me and Dan both had the same plan when it came to presents, and there’s now over twenty sitting under here. The Christmas tunes are continuous in this house now.

Dan grabs my hand once all that’s done. “Let’s go out,” he suggests energetically.

“Out for what?” I question. “Where?”

He shrugs. “Anywhere. I just want to be in the snow.” He squeezes my hand. “With you.”

We decide to go for a walk - it’s afternoon now, anyway, and it’s already starting to get dark.

“Wow,” Dan laughs. “It’s really snowing.”

“It’s heavy,” I reply. Actually, it is incredibly heavy. We probably shouldn’t be out right now. I can hardly see as we walk. But Dan seems fine - he has his incredibly fluffy hat on right now, so he must be okay. Must be super warm, too.

“Where should we go?” he asks me - well, I do know the area best.

I think about it for a while, and then I slip my fingers in with his. “Let’s go through the back fields,” I suggest. “No one will be around, not at this time.”

Dan shuffles himself closer to me as we walk and drops his voice to a seductive whisper. “So… What do  _you_ think is going to happen out there?”

I shove him away from me. “Not in your dreams, Howell. It’s minus degrees out here tonight.”

We walk all the way through the fields until we come across a worn-down building.

“What’s this?” Dan asks. “You’ve never mentioned anything like this before.”

“No, I guess I haven’t,” I hum back. “Honestly, I didn’t think it would still be here.” We walk right up to the broken and rotten old doors. “I think this used to be a hospital, long ago. It’s been abandoned even since I was a kid.”

Being here again brings back a very old air of nostalgia. It makes me feel at peace.

Dan watches me without saying a word. He must wonder if I have something in mind.

I just sit myself down in the snow and fall back, laying peacefully in the soft, deep snow, and resting my eyes.

After a moment of silence, I hear Dan join me.

“What are we doing right now?” he asks me.

“Shh. We’re relaxing.”

He doesn’t say anything after that.

I rest my hands on my stomach and let the cold Winter air surround me. The wind starts to blow past us gently. I haven’t taken the time to rest like this since… well, since before Dan came around. It’s strange to have him with me this time.

“The stars look pretty from here,” he sighs. “There aren’t any clouds.”

Intrigued, I open my eyes: he’s right. The stars do shine pretty brightly from here.

I hear Dan push himself up out of the snow, but I close my eyes again: I’m too relaxed to move now.

Then, a giant heap of snow is dropped onto my head.

I shoot myself up and quickly brush off all the snow from my face, choking and coughing in distress, whilst out of my sight Dan is struggling to breathe with how much he’s laughing.

“You prick!” I yell, blindly running towards him.

“I’m sorry!” Dan gurgles out between giggles.

“You’re not sorry!” I leap onto him and bring us both to the ground, thankfully cushioned by the snow. I scoop up as much snow as I can from around me and press it into Dan’s face, and he screams out with hysterical delight.

Exhausted, and breathless, I sit back and brush away the last remnants of snow from my eyes until I can finally see again, and Dan does the same. I lay my hands by either side of his head, and we both pant into the frosty air between us.

Even still, Dan continues to laugh.

“You’re gonna suffocate yourself like that,” I groan, rolling my eyes.

“Oh god, I don’t care - it would be the greatest way to go.”

I finally decide, to shut him up, to press my lips against his, but I kiss him softly - I don’t really want him to die like this. Shyly, Dan brings his hands up to me and rests them round the back of my neck, encouraging me slightly closer.

When I finally draw away, Dan looks slightly dazed.

“You know…” I whisper softly. “You look adorable in that hat.”

Strangely, as much as that makes Dan giggle, it even makes him blush a bit.

“Umm, Phil..?” Dan starts. “Yesterday… on the Eye… did you mean what you said?”

“What? About love?” I lean slightly closer, until our lips are almost touching. “Of course I did. I love you, Dan.” I play one of my hands through his hair. “There’s no mistaking it anymore.”

Dan’s eyes shine brighter than they ever have before.

I kiss him again, and as the sun goes down, and the air starts to freeze, and Dan’s arms wrap around me, snow starts to fall again, and Dan’s body feels especially warm against mine.

Christmas Eve. We don’t do much except warm up from the night before and make sure all our clothes are ready for tomorrow.

I offer Dan to share a shower with me - we haven’t shared one in a while, not since before my mum was here - but he passes it up. Says he’s got something he needs to do. I don’t question him - what terrible thing could he be involved with now, at Christmas?

I take a nice, long shower. I could almost fall asleep in it if I needed to. (And, maybe I think of Dan… a  _lot_ …)

When I finally get dressed and go downstairs, I’m shocked by what I see: the kitchen table, all set up, all Christmassy, with a red table cloth and little Santa salt and pepper pots, golden plates and silver cutlery, and, on top of the plates, a full roast dinner.

“Dan..!” I cry out in shock. “What is all this?!”

He giggles and drags me by the hand over to my chair. “Well, since we’re going to stuff our faces with chocolate tomorrow, I thought we could have our Christmas dinner today.” He tucks me in and sweetly presses a kiss to my cheek.

“But this…! This is too much!”

“Oh, stop whining will you?” he chuckles, sitting himself down too. “I even bought us wine!”

When I look at Dan now, all I want to do is kiss him, and hold his hand. There seems to be a gentle and warm aura around him now. The colour  _red_  comes to mind, but maybe that’s just all the Christmas messing with my head.

We sleep together, all wrapped up with blankets, watching the snow fall out my window. I cradle Dan’s head against my chest and press little kisses to his hair. His fingers are curled round mine, and through them, I can feel the gentle pulse of his heartbeat. Maybe it’s only because of the chill of Winter, but right now, on this night, I’m reminded of how real Dan truly is. He’s warm, and he’s breathing, and he’s real. It feels like he came out of nowhere, and landed straight in my lap.

Christmas morning (well, late morning), Dan throws me our -  _oh my god,_ matching Christmas jumpers? Dan is the best.

Most of the day is spent laying on the sofa together, with my hand in his hair, lazily watching through the Christmas film channels. We snack all day - unhealthy, too - and open all the presents in short bursts throughout the day.

On the sofa, I hold Dan in my arms, and he even starts to drift off for a bit around lunchtime.  _Huh_ , I think to myself as I watch him intently.  _He really hasn’t been sleeping lately_. I never thought he would fall asleep in the middle of the day, though. Dan’s body turns slowly and burrows into my lap, letting out a deep sigh as it relaxes again. It makes my heart feel all warm. I never want to be anywhere else but right here, with Dan so sweet and adorable in my hold. I run my fingers gently through his hair, admiring him. This is our first Christmas together, and it’s been perfect. I could never have asked for anything better.

“Merry Christmas, Dan,” I sing, pressing a loving kiss to his head.

 


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there is a lot of non-con in this chapter that could be quite distressing to people, moreso than previously in this story.

**WN: drugging, brief blood mention, restraint, smut (non-con, manipulation, handjob, fingering, mentions of violation)**

Boxing Day comes around quicker than I would have liked, but we leave the tidying and packing up for another day.

“Hey, Phil,” Dan calls suddenly from the kitchen. So I get up and follow him in there.

He’s sitting at the kitchen table with lunch already sorted - well, I say lunch, it’s just marshmallows and possibly the most indulgent-looking hot chocolate I’ve ever seen. I jump right into my seat without hesitation, grab a spoon, and tuck in to the whipped cream that lays on top.

Dan giggles at the sight. “You’re never going to grow up, are you?” he teases.

I shake my head quickly. “You can’t make me.”

He leaves it at that.

“Actually, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.” I hum in acknowledgement as I keep tucking in, letting him continue. “I’ve been thinking about where we are now, together, in this relationship. And I think… I think I finally did it.”

I take a sip of my drink and place it back down on the table. “Did what?”

He grins. “I made you love me.”

I stare at him for a moment. And then I let myself have a little chuckle. “Of course you have. Is that weird?”

His smile only gets wider. “Well, it’s not weird now, but judging from our history, it certainly should be. To you.”

I hum in confusion and frown slightly at him. “What do you mean?”

Dan leans forward onto the table as I finish up my drink. “I think you’ve forgotten when we came from, Phil. All that pain and terror - you’ve forgotten all of it. Isn’t that amazing?”

Quietly, I place my empty glass back down on the table between us, holding it with both hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say simply back. “Sure, we had a rough start, but none of that matters now. Besides - you said you regret it. So we can leave all that behind us.”

I realise now that Dan hasn’t touched his drink. Well, it’s because he’s talking, of course it is.

“But, you see, Phil…” he sings. “I  _want_ to regret the things I did, the things that hurt you. But if I had to do all this again, try to make you love me right from the start, now that I know that every single thing I did led to this - to success - I can’t bring myself to regret any of it.” Then, he shows me a sweet little smile. “Do you understand? You may have repressed everything that we did together, but me? I can’t dare forget it.”

Umm, okay?

“Dan, are you feeling okay?” I ask, concerned. “You might have a fever. You’re acting strange.”

Dan just laughs and pushes himself up  from the table. “I guess you’re right. Maybe we should both have a lie down.” He walks round to me and takes my hand, leading me up too. “You know I can’t sleep when I’m not with you.”

I agree with him and follow him up the stairs. We don’t even bother to change into our pyjamas or anything - it’s only a small nap, after all.

“I’ll just go to the bathroom real quick,” Dan tells me, slipping away from the room.

I busy myself whilst he’s gone - I don’t feel tired enough yet for a nap, so I’ll probably just cuddle him as he falls asleep instead.

I wonder what’s gotten into him all of a sudden? He doesn’t sound like himself. Maybe it was because we watched Doctor Who last night -  _The End of Time_  was an episode full of hostages and emotional torture, so he’s probably gotten a little too fanatical about it.

I realise I never get a good look of this room. Since Dan is always here with me, I never focus on it like I used to - when you’re restless and have nothing to fill time with, you get  _very_ bored and meticulous about even the littlest things. I walk over to the desk and take a look at a little white bowl that sits at the back. Has this always been there? I can’t remember. It feels familiar in some way.

_I glance over to my desk - where the strange out-of-place looking bowl sits. Dan seemed mesmerised by it earlier._

I lean over the desk and take a look at what’s inside…

_I swallow nervously. I bet I’m starting to sweat. “It's… it’s blood, isn’t it?” Dan hums in confirmation._

No! No, I don’t want to remember!

My head starts to spin, and suddenly I’m incredibly woozy. My legs shake and give in, and I crash to the ground, hitting my head against the bed frame.

“Dan!” I cry out lamely. My vision’s going blurry. This is too familiar. Why won’t it stop? I want it to stop! “Dan!”

My head throbs and I struggle to keep my eyes open. The bedroom door opens, and maybe it’s because I’m passing out, but Dan looks like he’s grinning.

When I slowly come to, I feel a faint sort of touch on my back, against my spine, like a feather. I'm… I’m laying on my front… on a bed, I think? But what's… what’s going on?

A hand brushes against my shoulder, and another light touch appears right in the small of my back, and I shiver at the touch, arching my back slightly. I try to raise my head, and I realise I can’t see. Have I… been blindfolded again? But this feels different. This isn’t a cloth over my eyes, it's… like a metal slab. And my mouth… there’s something like a ball in it - a ball gag? I can just about breathe through it.

I whine, wondering if Dan is around, wanting to ask him what’s happening.

“Ah,” comes his voice from behind me. It’s him doing this? But this isn’t like him. “You’re awake, are you?”

I just whimper into my gag again.

“In case you’re wondering, I’m not mad with you or anything. This isn’t a punishment. It’s a pleasure.”

I feel like he’s said that before.

_I feel him try to reach his hand down between us, but I panic and pull away, turning my head away from him in objection._

_“No, wait - ” I gasp._

I shiver at the memory.

Dan climbs over my body and I feel his lips press against my shoulder - and I flinch. That must be what the touch is. He’s kissing me?

“Since our relationship is going so well,” he hums, kissing the back of my neck. “And our sex life is thriving, I wanted to try something new. Something I already know I enjoy.” I can’t help but shiver at his touch, letting out a vulnerable moan.

But this… this isn’t new. We’ve done this before.

Dan’s fingers play lightly down the length of my spine, making by back arch involuntarily.

“I tried to tell you earlier,” he giggles. “I didn’t just make you love me. That wasn’t  _my_ wish. It was yours.”

_Huh?_

_“Make me love you, Dan. Make us happy together. And we won’t know pain ever again.”_

I remember. That’s what I asked of him. But there’s a sense of fear wrapped around those words, around the memory.

_“So obedient. You want to be a good boy for me, Phil?” I can’t stop crying. He fists my hair. “Suck me off one more time.”_

_I cringe. Dan moves himself onto his knees before me, one-handedly unzipping his jeans and tugging them down. I can’t help but cry out, pushing my left hand against his hips. As he yanks my head back I feel more tears falling. “Dan, please - ”_

_“Shut it,” he snaps. He pulls his boxers down and I cringe, looking away._

No..!

I start to wriggle helplessly, wishing I could just thrash the thought away.

_He grabs my right wrist in his right hand and pulls it out to my side._

_“Open your eyes, Phil. It won’t be fun if you don’t watch.”_

_Reluctantly, I do as he says. There’s no point upsetting him anymore._

_He’s grinning like an idiot. My eyes fall down to my arm, outstretched over the end of the bed. Dan brings the knife against my wrist and my heart leaps to my throat. I start crying in panic, but he doesn’t listen._

“I think you’re remembering…” Dan sings with a laugh. “How could you ever want to forget all the good times we had together?”

I… I don’t understand… How could I have forgotten? All that stuff… it went on for so long. He did so many horrible things. How could I just suppress it all like that?

Even so, I was happy. I was happy since I’d put it all out of my mind. Why did Dan have to ruin that?

“This new feeling…” Dan continues, moving his lips to my neck. I whine and try turning my head away, but his hand reaches to the other side and holds me still. As my body starts to shake, he talks between his kissing, his warmth breath hitting my skin like steam. “Is common with submissives.”

I cry out loudly at that, letting my confusion be known.  _Submissive?_ I’m a submissive now?

Dan’s fingers tug my hair tightly, warning for me to shut up. “Terror. That’s the feeling. It’s the hardest part of submission - for me, at least. You have to find the right balance of terror and trust. Because, for every sub, terror is what turns them on.”

His hand drops down my body again - I feel his fingers grazing my sides - and then it tries to slide beneath me. My heart drops in… well, terror, and I force my body firmly against the mattress, blocking his entry.

“And,” he continues. “Terror is made up of different little things. It can be not knowing what’s happening, a fast pace, the threat of punishment. But, for me, I’ve always loved helplessness the most.” He keeps trying to burrow his way under, but I won’t let him in. I can’t bear to. “Isn’t it hot? Doesn’t your blood start to rush? You’re tied up, helpless, exposed, all for my convenience.”

Dan pulls his body up, no longer leaning his weight on his hand, and his other fingers start to tickle the sensitive skin at my lower back - the touch, as it would to anyone, makes my back arch helplessly, and his other hand sneaks under at the opportunity. I let out a cry of defeat as his fingers wrap around my cock, and he starts trying to stroke me slowly. My whole body shivers and my hands tug above my head - my wrists are tied to the head of the bed, making sure that I can’t go anywhere. Even if I wanted to stop his hand from moving, to crush it against the bed, his fingers are still working at my back, making sure that my back keeps arching against my will.

“Isn’t this new?” he laughs with delight - he’s certainly enjoying himself. “What you’re feeling right now is what I always feel when I submit to you. And it feels good, doesn’t it?” I whine in discomfort, wishing he would stop touching me. I’m not hard - does he think this will make me hard? “I wanted to share this with you, share my pleasure.”

But it doesn’t make any sense. He said he loves submitting to me, even with his anxiety. I don’t understand why he suddenly wants to swap us over.

“I may have lied to you earlier, Phil.” I cry into my gag. “What did I claim about this kind of thing again? Oh yeah! That I only just realised how much I wanted you to dominate me. But Phil… if that were true… how could I have fantasised about it for years before meeting you?”

A familiar heavy feeling, reminding me of the colour black, starts to build inside me. I remember it all too well. It’s the feeling of not realising sooner, when it was so obvious. It’s the feeling of blindness and utter stupidity. It’s gullibility.

_“There was one good thing,” Dan tells me, his fingers brushing sleepily along my chest, “about spending my teenage years alone.”_

_“And what was that?”_

_He shows me a cheeky smile. “I could masturbate whenever I wanted.”_

_“One time,” he starts, obliging me, “I had this chain of dreams where you were the one to kidnap me, and you kept me for sex.”_

“So.” I can tell Dan is grinning. My fingers tighten round the handcuffs in distress. “What is the truth, you wonder? I found the world of BDSM at a very young age - when I hit sixteen, really - and the idea of you dominating me was the first thing to come to mind. But… when these plans came to mind of kidnapping you, my desires to please you merged with thoughts of your helplessness, and I suddenly found a desire to dominate you myself. Well, kind of. I just wanted to be in control of your pleasure. I want you,” he purrs, “to be my toy.”

I can feel tears welling in my eyes. I want all this to end. I can’t stand it anymore. I want to go back to the way we were before.

“Don’t get me wrong, Phil,” Dan hums into my ear. I can’t do anything in this position and it’s killing me. It’s like I’m letting him molest me. “I don’t want to cause you terror. I’m not doing this to scare you. I just want you to know, too, how good it feels to be treated like this. Because I love it so much when you do it for me.”

Finally, strangely, Dan huffs in frustration, and suddenly I’m being flipped onto my back. Finally, his hands draw away from me, and, quietly to myself, I let out a sigh of relief.

“Ugh! Why aren’t you hard?” he cries, teeth obviously grit. I hear - and feel - the bed move beneath me, and suddenly Dan’s fingers are stroking over my cheeks. “Oh no. You’re crying.” Am I? I sniffle quietly, unable to help it. I suppose I am. I turn my head away from him. He yanks the blindfold off and stares at me scrutinisingly. “Yep. You’re certainly not going to get hard like that, are you?”

Dan leans down to my face, uncomfortably close, and tugs the gag down too. Before I can even say a word, his lips are against mine, and he’s trying to kiss me intimately. I squeeze my eyes shut as he does it. This isn’t our usual kind of kiss. But it still feels familiar in some way. It isn’t forceful or aggressive. Dan’s trying to  _give_ right now. He’s trying to affect me, like a drug, trying to sway me. It’s too obvious what he’s trying to do, but all it’ll do is show him that I can’t bring myself to oblige him. Or maybe that’s not how he sees it.

_Maybe that’s it, maybe Dan’s noticed that - how much I like it when he kisses me._

I groan helplessly into the kiss, trying to wriggle free even though I know it’s no use - I just can’t bear to lay still for him.

Dan slips his tongue between my lips and nudges my own playfully, encouragingly, but I don’t play along.

He pulls back after that, gasping for breath. I bet he’s hard right now, already.

“Do you think I’m trying to hurt you?” he whines, showing me a mock pout. “You’re supposed to like this. So stop trying to reject me.” His hand slides down my chest and my heart trembles at the implication. “If you give in, it’ll feel good.”

I let out a distressed whine and kick his hand away with my knee. That seems to take him aback.

“I  _said_ ,” he growls, “give in.”

“N-no!” I squeal, continuing to bat him away. “Please!”

Dan eventually huffs and sits back - no, he’s reaching down the side of the bed. “Stop squirming,” he warns me coldly. “Or else… I’ll have to take drastic measures.”

My eyes widen at what I see: it’s like a long metal bar, with leather straps attached at each end. Is that… supposed to go on my ankles?

I don’t stop struggling - how can I now?

Dan just sighs, ignoring my distress, and reaches for my ankles.

“No!  _No! Wait wait wait_  - ” I tug on my restraints. “Please!” I can certainly feel my tears now. “I’m not like you! I don’t like this! Not at all! I don’t get turned on by being abused and tormented! Please…” I sniff. “It makes me feel sick…”

To my surprise, Dan has actually stopped, and he’s leaning closer to me, staring, listening intently. I get that strange feeling again that if I say the wrong thing, he’s going to snap.

I take in a wavering breath.

“You know…” I struggle to speak. “You know better than anyone that there are two kinds of people - subs and Doms, right?” Dan nods to that - I breathe a sigh of relief. He’s listening to me. “W-well, subs get a kick from being dominated, and Doms get it from dominating others. Most people aren’t both, Dan. Don’t you know that? You and me… we’re different. You’re a sub and I’m a Dom. I can't… I don’t take pleasure from being vulnerable like this…”

I blink hard to try and get rid of my tears.

And Dan just stares at me, wide-eyed. But his gaze isn’t blank: there’s something on his mind.

He leans down, closer.

“I want to fuck you.”

My heart shudders. “H-huh?”

He brings a hand to my chin and strokes his thumb over my lips - is that to encourage me to keep quiet? “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. You always seem to enjoy it… so much… when you fuck me. And I want us to share our pleasures with each other.” His lips curl into a wide grin. “Sorry, but I can’t understand how someone wouldn’t feel the same things that I do in the same experience. I can feel your rush of domination, so why wouldn’t you feel mine?” His fingers squeeze my jaw. “I’m not just a sub, Phil. I’m so much more than that. I may even be more of a Dom than you.”

I stare up at him in horror. “But… I don't…”

Strangely, Dan tuts. “I wasn't…” His hand slides under my head - he grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks it harshly, making me squeal in pain. “… asking for permission.”

As Dan treats me like this, I feel what he must be talking about: pure, heavy, black dread. My heart is heavy and it thuds in my chest and through my head. My blood doesn’t rush, as such, but it feels thick and black. I don’t understand how he could ever find this erotic. And yet… how selfish I’ve been. Regardless of what it must be like for Dan, I’ve always taken what I wanted from him. But that was very different to this. Dan  _likes_ being treated roughly, being dominated. And I was only trying to match his desires.

He must be ecstatic right now.

The back of my head stings with pain but he still doesn’t let go. He reaches his other hand over to the bedside drawers, opens one, closes it, and returns to me, holding what he’s retrieved in my view.

My eyes widen.

Dan grins - anticipation. I shiver at the thought of him imagining this scene in his head.

“Since you’ve never had anything inside you before,” he hums excitedly, shaking a bottle of lube, “we’ll definitely need to open you up down here.”

“No..!” I gasp, terrified, as Dan slinks down my body. “No, please..!” He chuckles to himself - does this behaviour  _amuse_ him? I tug desperately on my handcuffs. “Please! L-let me do it! Please, Dan!”

His eyes shoot up to mine then, searching me intricately. “You really want that?” he asks of me.

Biting my lip, I nod my head: it’s better than him doing it. “ _Please_ …”

His mouth, for possibly the first time, curls into a lop-sided smile. “Alright.”

Dan reaches over me - which I subconsciously cower away from - removes my cuffs, and sits back on the bed. I bring my hands down quickly and gently rub my wrists.

Dan throws the bottle to my side and keeps smiling at me expectantly. “Put on a show for me.”

I cringe - sickened - at his words.

Heart thudding, and body shaking, I manage to turn myself over onto my front. This is… this is  _real_. I actually have to… My stomach twists up at the thought.

“Go on,” Dan pressures me, his impatience painfully clear. “If you don’t do it well enough, I’ll take over.” My heart pangs in dread. “For your own safety, of course.” He shows me that horrid smile - I think he stole that from my mum.

Nervously, with my heart thudding in my throat, I cover my fingers with a generous amount of lube, trying to block out any and all possible thoughts. As I bring them down behind me, I squeeze my eyes tightly shut.  _Think about how you do it with Dan,_ I tell myself.  _Imagine you’re by yourself. This isn’t the real situation you’re in, doing this because you have to. Imagine… Yes, imagine that you’re a teenager, exploring yourself._  I can pretend all I like, but this was never something I had ever considered when I was younger.

Very carefully, I push my finger inside, letting out a helpless whine at the sensation. This is too new, too unventured. I can’t feel comfortable with it. It feels all too vulnerable.

“How does it feel?” Dan sings to me, overly thrilled.

I don’t answer him.

I can’t bring myself to dare moving it, now that it’s inside. Since this is the first time, my body isn't… oh god, how do I word this without making myself throw up? My body isn’t  _accustomed_  to this sort of…  _treatment_. I fear, if I move it, a sting of pain will shoot through me.

“Come on,” Dan encourages me. “Move. Unless you need me to - ”

“No!” I gasp out. “I-I can do it.”

He falls silent after that.

Even more carefully, I slide my finger out again, bringing the second one in line too this time. But, when I try them both, I quickly realise that I am way too tight for this.

“I don’t think…” I whine worriedly. “I can't…”

“Try,” Dan orders.

So I persist. I keep trying to press them inside, but they just won’t fit. I let out a whine of frustration. I’m not going to force them in - that would  _really_ hurt.

“It won't…” I moan. “They won’t fit…!” I huff and throw my hand away. “It won’t work, Dan! So just - ”

Dan jumps over me and pins my arm to my back, grabbing the lube for himself. “Hold still,” he tells me. My heart leaps into my throat and I try crying out in panic. He leans down over me, keeping me under control, as his lips graze my ear. “I warned you,” he whispers. I can practically  _feel_  the grin on his face.

He pushes one finger inside me and I can’t hold back the cry of terror that leaves my mouth. Then, without even a moment of hesitation, he forces in the second. My mouth stays wide open in a silent cry.  _Oh god…_ I think.  _He’s really done it. But this means…_ I shut my eyes tightly.  _Oh god!_

“So…” he giggles. “How does it feel?”

I shake my head, refusing to answer, but I fear, if I just ignore him, he’ll use this current situation to punish me.

He moves his fingers carefully inside me, and I whimper in discomfort.

“Just think,” Dan continues, trying to purr seductively into my ear. “Soon, I’ll be inside you for the very first time.” I whine helplessly at the idea. Why does he have to talk right now? “Are you excited? Think about how good it’s going to feel, being beneath me for once. I might even have to gag you, or blindfold you - ” I squeal at the thought. My stomach starts twisting up horribly. God, why won’t he stop?

“Dan…” I moan. “Dan…! Please!” Suddenly, my body lurches, and I retch - I cover my mouth with my hand, eyes wide with panic. “I-I’m gonna puke!”

I lean over the side of bed and it all comes out, making me choke and gag. Tears fall from my eyes in humiliation.

Dan, thankfully, moves away from me. He leaves the bed for a while. I finish letting it all out and go to wipe my mouth -

Dan stops me, grabbing my wrist and kneeling in front of me. Instead, he hands me a towel, even letting me clean myself up.

I’ve never been so disgusting in front of him before. And yet, he’s not even angry with me.

“I guess…” he sighs - not in anger, or frustration - just disappointment. “I don’t think I could bear to fuck you, honestly. It sounded interesting in my head, but…” He lays another towel over the vomit and pushes me back onto the bed - the smell is starting to spread, now, so I’m grateful. He leaves his hand on my shoulder, showing me a gentle smile. “I’ll go get you some water, okay?”

Shocked, but unwilling to lose this atmosphere, I gratefully nod my head, and Dan leaves me.

It hurts… it kind of hurts back there. I guessed it would, obviously. It’s like something’s still there, and no amount of wriggling will make it any better. I squeeze my eyes shut and let my body tremble.

How did we get to this? I thought we were at a great place with our relationship. Why did Dan have to ruin it? Or maybe he didn’t like where we were at all. Maybe he’s been lying all this time. I don’t know how, exactly, but this situation doesn’t exactly make sense at this moment. Or maybe it’s even worse than that. Maybe he hasn’t been lying. Maybe… maybe Dan  _genuinely_ thinks that nothing has changed, that this is just like when we started all this sub and Dom stuff in the first place.

Dan comes back soon enough and not only hands me a glass of water, but also a thick blanket. I mutter a nervous thank you under my breath and sip generously. As I do, in the now tense silence between us, Dan sits himself next to me, wriggles under the covers with me, and plays his fingers affectionately through my hair.

“I’m sorry about today,” he mumbles sadly. “I really thought you’d like it.”

I don’t say anything to him - instead, I just gulp down a mouthful of water.

Dan holds my head still and presses a gentle kiss to my cheek. “I won’t try that again, okay? Your butt will stay unharmed from now on.”

As funny as he wants that to be, from my point of view, it’s really untasteful.

He lets me finish my water in peace, taking it away from me once I’m done.

“I, umm…” he struggles to start, sitting up beside me to attract my attention. Shyly, he takes my hand in both of his and squeezes it gently. “I hope you know that I wasn’t myself today. I was… I was acting. Just like you do, when you dominate me.” Huh. That… actually makes a lot of sense. I believe him. Dan reaches one of his hands to my cheek and holds me sweetly, letting out a soft little sigh in admiration. “I don’t want to scare you like that again. All I want is for you to like it.” Then he smiles. “And that’s okay, because I have another plan.”

Good feelings gone.

Dan leans forwards and presses a soft kiss to my lips, smiling excitedly.

“Just wait for the drug to kick in.”

 


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you may hate me for this. Some of you may love it. That is your only warning.

**WN: strong language, drugging (sedation), non-con (conflicting - drugs), implied threesome, angst**

 

 _Peej rings the doorbell and nervously stands back, trying to ignore his fears. His body is trembling but he tries to keep himself composed._ There’s nothing to be afraid of,  _he convinces himself desperately._ Dan and Phil are in a good place right now. There’s no reason to hurt me. I’ll be fine.

_Coming here was probably a bad idea._

_No one answers, so Peej tries again - the lights are on inside, so they must be in. They’re probably just busy at the moment: Peej doesn’t let himself wonder any further about that._

_Eventually, the door opens, and there stands Dan, wearing incredibly baggy clothes that probably belong to Phil._ Ugh, can they try to be anymore of a couple?

_“Hello..?” Dan greets awkwardly, frowning a little. Peej forces out a smile. Dan looks down into Peej’s hands to see a large collection of cider._

_“I…”_ Fuck, why couldn’t Phil answer the door?  _“I thought we could hang out tonight. It’s been a while since…” Peej coughs awkwardly. “Since we last met up. I brought some Christmas presents, too.”_

_Dan’s gaze moves back up to Peej’s. And then he smiles._

_“Come on in,” he sings happily, stepping aside for Peej to enter the house. Nervously, Peej does so, hoping his nervousness isn’t showing. “How come Chris isn’t here with you?” Dan asks curiously as Peej sets the cider down in the kitchen. He gestures for Peej to sit down, so he does. “Can I get you a drink - cider, perhaps?”_

_Peej hums a yes and makes himself comfortable. “Well, to be honest… I wanted to keep him out of this.”_

_“Oh?” Dan hums._

_Peej curls into himself slightly. “It was my fault, dragging him into all this. I don’t want to make things worse.” He looks up at Dan. “He won’t ever say anything to anyone else. Though you made sure of that…”_

_Dan places Peej’s drink on the table before him and takes a seat opposite him. “Oh. You found out.”_

_Peej holds his breath. “Yeah.”_

_Through the awkwardness, Dan takes a sip of his own drink, and Peej does the same._

_“So,” Dan starts. “Why are you really here?”_

_Peej’s fingers wrap tightly round the glass. “I… I don’t really know. It’s been so long since I saw you both, I felt like I should come here.”_

_Dan leans forwards with a smile. “Did you miss me?”_

_Peej feels a blush growing on this cheeks and looks away. “Don’t be stupid,” he groans, as aggressively as he can. “I missed Phil. Obviously.”_

_Dan just chuckles and takes another sip of his drink. “I’m only teasing you,” he smirks. “Were you planning on telling him soon?”_

_“About Chris?” Peej’s heart flutters in his chest._

_Dan shrugs. “About the_ whole  _gay thing, I was thinking,” he suggests instead. Peej opens his mouth but Dan keeps talking. “Don’t try to deny it anymore. That would be foolish. You had a crush on Phil before you even knew it. And I’m not angry with you for that anymore.”_

_Peej raises his eyebrows. “You were… before?”_

_“Of course.” Dan takes another swig, and so does Peej. “Why else would I have treated you so badly in the first place?” A shiver runs through Peej’s body and he looks away, taking another drink. “But…” He hesitates, so Peej dares to look at him again. Does he look… sad? Thoughtful, definitely. “… When I realised you didn’t even know, I felt awful, but I still couldn’t bear to let you stay - you were still a threat, after all.” Then, he smiles again, his whole face brightening. “But now that you have Chris, it’s okay.”_

_Nervous, Peej looks away again._

_“… Right?”_

_He gulps. “You know it’s not,” he cries. “Do you want me to admit it?”_

_Dan smiles. “You know I do.”_

_Peej feels his body start to tremble again. “Alright…” Even his voice starts to tremble. “I still… still have… lingering feelings… for… for Phil.”_

_Dan doesn’t say anything. Peej gulps._

_“But it’s not what you think! I’m not going after him! I’m with Chris so they’ll go away for good!” Right now, his heart is going mad. Peej worries that Dan will harm him badly for this. But he’s already been deterred - it wouldn’t do any good._

_“You came here again, looking for Phil, knowing full well how you feel?” Dan seethes._

_Peej gulps - again. “I guess so… But I won’t do anything, I swear! I just don’t want to lose our friendship.”_

_“But,” Dan cuts in quickly. “You kissed him.” Peej sinks into himself further. “How can I take your word when you’ve already kissed him?”_

_“T-that was a mistake… I was drunk…” Peej remembers what Phil said about their kiss before. “I thought he - ”_ No,  _Peej stops himself._ Don’t lie. There’s no point.  _He sighs instead. “I’m sorry.”_

_They sit in silence for a while. A horrid, terrifying silence._

_“I watched your video,” Dan tells him suddenly. “The one you made after I sent you home.” He scoffs. “You looked so_ lonely _. It was sad.”_

_Peej stays silent._

_Dan finishes his drink and stands himself up, leaning over the table._

_“I’m not going to hurt you, Peej,” he says in a soft voice. Peej’s body relaxes in relief. “You came here voluntarily, facing me despite how badly I’ve treated you. You’re brave - I’ll give you that.” He lets himself chuckle lightly. “But I won’t take advantage of that. Phil is sleeping right now, so you can’t see him yet. You’re welcome to stay here overnight - in your own room, of course.”_

_Peej finishes up his drink too and pushes himself onto his feet. “That would be nice. Thank you.”_

_Dan chats to him as he leads him upstairs, letting him use the bathroom before he leads him to the bedroom he’ll be staying in. He worries that Dan would pick the parents’ old room. Too many bad memories._

_Peej opens the bathroom door and steps outside - his head suddenly goes fuzzy, and he stumbles - but luckily Dan catches him. Peej suddenly feels incredibly light-headed, and he moans softly within Dan’s hold._

_“Oh dear,” Dan giggles. “I thought you would have learned by now - never take a drink from my hand.”_

_Peej only lets out a noise of confusion. When Dan has drugged him before, it never quite felt like this. He feels too calm. It’s like he’s going to fall asleep at any moment, but it’s not quite enough to make him lose consciousness. He's… drowsy._

_“I bought something new for us to play with,” Dan sings excitedly, dragging Peej down the corridor. “It’s called OxyContin - it’s remarkably easy to pick up, since so many teens are prescribed it nowadays, and, luckily for us, it’s legal.” Peej groans sleepily as Dan drags him into a very dimly-lit room. “It’s a narcotic - an opioid, if you will. I did a lot of exciting research.”_

_He drops Peej’s body onto its knees and kneels down before him, holding his chin lightly._

_“This drug is extra special though,” he mutters quietly, moving himself closer. Peej can’t even bring himself to panic - his heart feels like it’s barely beating. All this feels like a dream, like he isn’t even here. He only blinks at Dan as he talks. “Narcotics make you drowsy, and calm, and, best of all, euphoric.” He starts to smile - a new sense of thrill shining in his eyes, even through the dark. “Which means… you’re going to really like this.”_

_His other hand slips round the back of Peej’s head and pulls him closer, and Peej’s lips part slightly without him thinking about it. This is crazy. This isn’t Chris, or even Phil, and yet… Peej wants it._

_“I said I wouldn’t hurt you,” Dan chuckles. “And I didn’t lie. This won’t hurt at all.”_

_Then, Dan is kissing him, holding Peej’s body against him. Peej wants to freak out, to push Dan away, to even feel ashamed. But he can’t do any of that. Dan’s kiss tastes good, and he can’t deny it. He finds himself leaning forwards slightly, moaning slightly, unable to help it._

I don’t know how it got to this.

I keep slipping out of consciousness and waking up still half-asleep, wondering if I’m still dreaming. Everything seems fuzzy and I can’t quite get a grip on reality. The only reality I can find is when Dan touches me, and kisses me, and my body latches on desperately to every touch. Strangely, it all feels like a short buzz of euphoria, every time he’s close, so much so that I can’t bring myself to do anything but try and find more. It’s the only reality I have: if I let it go, I’ll slip away again.

“Phil,” Dan sings into my ear, his lips grazing it lightly, letting me know he’s there. “I have a new toy for us to play with.”

Someone else is here now - I can tell this isn’t Dan. They crawl into my lap slowly, timidly, and the way their mouth hangs slightly open tells me they might be feeling the same things I am.

“Be gentle with him,” Dan chuckles. “He’s a little woozy right now.”

I bring my arms up and hook them round this person’s neck, bringing them closer. I can feel myself slipping away again, so I’m desperate to feel them.

I bring their lips onto mine, enjoying them. Their heartbeat feels slow against my chest, but not as slow as mine. Without thinking - not that I can - I bring my tongue into play, exploring them further, needing to feel more. They let out a little moan into my mouth and I feel their thighs twitch round mine. Sensitive, perhaps? Virgin? Their body feels incredibly warm against mine. I want to hug them.

Dan kneels behind them and presses his lips to the top of their back, making them tremble. “Don’t be shy,” he grins between kisses. “We’ll make you feel good.”

Their fingers press into my back - I can tell they’re  _really_ feeling this. I’m jealous. I move my mouth to their throat and they let out an unstifled moan, trembling in my arms.

I don’t know long it’s been since we started this. At first, it was just me and Dan. It must have been hours by now, with all the clocking out. Every so often, he helps me have a drink, which only makes me more tired.

I can’t move too far either, even if I had the energy: my ankle has a long chain attaching it to… something. This room is mostly empty floor. It’s quite dark, too, which worsens my loose grasp on reality.

The person on top of me is chained, too: I can hear the metal clinking when they get too excited.

How long are we going to be here?

 _Dan watches, standing, arms folded, as his two subjects play. It amuses him, to see how disinhibited they act when not in their right mind. He’s quite tempted to join them himself, with the narcotic, simply to see for himself how good it feels. But no - it’s far more fun being here, standing - being_ able  _to stand._

_He chuckles to himself._

_For Dan, social events aren’t usually his fancy. People watching, that’s fun. But having to interact as though he’s at all similar to other people drives him mad. It’s like getting on his knees and sprouting wool. It isn’t that Dan is superior - not always, not exactly - just different. His peers wanted to go clubbing and talk about football? He wanted to sit inside and watch Phil’s videos. Of course, to them, he’s the abnormal one, inferior._

_What Dan imagines when he sees people are chain-like ropes hanging from their limbs - one at each wrist, the ankles, stomach, and neck. You can tell a lot about a person’s strings just by watching them. If they don’t hold themselves right, if they slouch and cower, their strings attach to the people around them, giving them control. If they walk with confidence, their strings attach to themselves - Dan likes to think he’s like that. Best of all, Dan loves seeing what happens when other people take hold of the strings. When he does it, they seem to cower at his feet without even realising._

_Right now, he holds Phil’s and Peej’s in just one hand, twisting them, manoeuvring them to his will. It’s much more fun when they don’t know their strings are being controlled._

Don’t bite the hand that feeds you _, Dan thinks with a grin._

_But it gets better. Ever since that very first week, Phil’s strings have been getting thicker, and heavier, practically warping into chains, and they’ve started to grow from places Dan hadn’t considered before. The main one - still, the most frail yet, but with a proper grip it will yield the greatest control - sits right inside Phil’s heart._

This time, when I wake up, the room feels far brighter than it did before. I don’t feel as light-headed and sleepy as I did before, either. Has it finally stopped?

I groan in confusion and push myself up into a sitting position, bringing my other hand to my head to assess the damage. Well, at least I’m wearing underwear. That I can be grateful for, I suppose.

And, of course, there sits Dan. By the door opposite me. He’s staring right at me with a rather large grin on his face.

“What’s going on?” I grumble. I wonder how long it’ll take to recover from this.

“Our playtime is over now,” Dan says sadly. “Using narcotics for too long can create an addiction, and I’m not that cruel. You’ll be fine, though.” He smiles wider and tilts his head to the side, no longer looking at me. “You both will.”

I frown at him. He tilts his head further to the side, indicating for me to look. So I turn my head.

Peej lays beside me, also in his underwear, barely rousing from sleep himself.

My eyes go wide.

“How much can you remember, Phil?” Dan asks me playfully.

I can’t help but stare at Peej. “I… I don’t know,” is all I can struggle out. I feel guilty all of a sudden.  _Don’t think about it_ , I warn myself.  _Don’t you dare, Phil._

I look down between us to find us both chained at the ankle. So it definitely wasn’t a dream - all I can remember is real. Oh, god.

Dan lets out a chuckle. I think he’s watching me.

“Peej can go home now,” he tells me with a smile. “We’ve had our fun.”

When I look back at Peej, he isn’t rousing anymore. I wonder if he’s still asleep, or if he’s only pretending. I wouldn’t blame him if he was. In fact, I’m especially gratefully that he isn’t looking at me right now. I don’t want to face him.

“Wanna have dinner?”

I look back over at Dan, finding him grinning widely. He’s doing what my mum does: he’s acting  _buttered_  and over-kind. It makes me feel sick.

I just stare at him without answering.

His stare and smile are unwavering.

Eventually, he lets out a breathy laugh, and pushes himself onto his feet. “Alright then. I’ll move Peej to a bed for the moment, so he can sleep in peace.”

I bow my head and face away as Dan unchains Peej and drags his body out of the room. He manages to close the door behind him even with his hands full: that must mean he’s determined. Have we regressed this far already? So quickly?

He’s gone for quite a while.

_“Drop the act,” Dan scoffs as he drops Peej onto the bed. “You’re not fooling anyone.”_

_Peej reluctantly opens his eyes. But he doesn’t look at Dan: he looks straight at his feet._

_Dan watches him as he cuffs Peej’s feet together. Then he lets out a little laugh._

_“You’re hilarious, you know that?” Peej doesn’t react. “You’re ashamed now, aren’t you?” Nothing. Dan just giggles and collects Peej’s clothes from a bundle in the corner of their - Phil’s, technically - bedroom, and starts to fold them up. “Don’t you act like I’m to blame for all of that. You had your fun.” Peej cringes obviously. It only amuses Dan more. “What are you going to tell your boyfriend, then? Does he know that you were coming up to see us?” No response. Dan leans further forward, showing Peej a wide smirk. “Will you ever tell him that you had an orgy with Dan and Phil for two whole days?”_

_Helplessly, Peej’s eyes start to well up, so he closes them tightly. What he’s really doing is willing Dan away._

_Dan lays Peej’s clothes on the bed next to him. “I’ll let you go in a little bit - try to dress as much as you can.”_

_Then, he pats Peej’s thigh with a little giggle and leaves the room, locking the door behind him._

When Dan finally comes back, I’m still in the same place.

“We need to talk,” I grumble as loud as I can.

Dan pauses, then calmly locks the door. “Fine,” he says with a smile.

I don’t look him in the eye - he’s seen far too much now. “What the hell was all that about?”

“All what, exactly?”

“The - ” I let out a growl of annoyance. “… The drugging, Dan. And the sex. I mean, what the hell were you thinking?”

Strangely, infuriatingly, Dan just shrugs. “It seemed like fun. Plus, you’d kind of pissed me off.”

I shoot a glare at him then. “When?”

“You know…” He sits himself by the door and twiddles his thumbs. “Boxing Day. You wouldn’t let me try my new thing.” He pouts like a child. “I was so excited, and you had to whine and cry - hell, you even threw up. I think I deserved to be a little pissed.”

I stare at him blankly, trying to understand him. “You mean… you did all this - all this drugging, for  _two fucking days_ \- all because I said  _no_  to you?”

Dan stares at me like that answer was obvious.

I let out a scoff in disbelief. “Unbelievable. Do I actually have to spell it out for you? You can’t just  _do_ something when I don’t want it. That’s not right.”

He pouts again. “No - it’s not right that I can’t do what I want just because you’re a cry baby. I mean - you’ve always gotten what  _you_ want. The minute  _I_ want something, I can’t have it.”

Blood-red rage overwhelms me for a moment and I leap forwards -  _fuck_ , but my ankle is yanked back. I stare at Dan on my hands and knees, growling like a bull.

“You’ve got to be  _fucking kidding me_!” I scream. Dan doesn’t even flinch. “Do you even  _remember_  the shit you’ve put me through? Did I fucking ask to be kidnapped - restrained - molested - fucking  _stalked_? You think I wanted any of that?! How demented are you?!” I slam my fist against the floor. “I’ve spent the last two months trying to please you! I’ve tried to do everything you asked, tried to be everything you wanted me to be. It’s be  _hell_.”

Dan still isn’t fazed. He leans forwards and stares at me strongly. “So… you didn’t like it?”

I’m silent. Then I just scoff. “Fine. I liked some of it. I liked falling in love with you, and dominating you, and just hanging out together. But how much of that matters with the way we came about? How can we ever be happy with the things you’ve done to me?”

Dan just smiles. “You forgot them easily enough once.”

I scowl at him. “You brainwashed me.”

“I did not!”

“ _You did!_ ”

Silence.

Unlike myself, I find within my chest the urge to laugh, so I let it out. I think I must be going mad.

“I can’t keep going like this,” I shrug. “What could you do, if you woke up one day without me here?”

Dan frowns at me - oh, so  _now_ I get a reaction? “I would find you - ”

“But what if you can’t?” I shoot back. “What if I don’t let you? And so what if you did - what could you do? Chain me up again? Beg for me to go back?” I lean forwards myself. “You can never guarantee to stay with me.”

Dan doesn’t say anything to me. I think… it looks like he’s going to cry. I find myself conflicted by the sight. Have I ever made him cry before?

“Shit,” I sigh. “I was so happy with you. I was so happy over Christmas that I never wanted it to end. I don’t think I can bear to let that go.”

Dan looks sharply up at me, with fear in his eyes. “You’re not  _really_ planning on leaving me… are you?”

This is strange. Is that really an option? Could I actually just up and leave him, whenever I wanted?

I sigh in frustration and let my head drop heavily. “I don’t know, Dan,” I confess. “I don’t want to lose what we have. I really think I’ve come to love you. And I want so much more with you. But…” Dan lets out a little hic. I don’t dare look up - I guess he’s already in tears. “But you went too far this time. I can’t forget and forgive you so easily. So… I think… I think we need some time.”

“Time…?” His voice is broken slightly. “W-what do you mean?”

“Time apart. From us.”

A moment passes in silence. Dan takes in a deep breath.

“No,” he spits aggressively. “I can’t allow it. You know I can’t.”

I lift my head, then, shooting him a dominant glare. “I’m not asking for your permission. I’m telling you we need some time.”

“But why?!” He’s growing hysterical now. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything. “Why do we need any time apart? All you’ll do is drift away from me, and I’ll be alone again. I won’t let that happen - not like Peej, not to me!”

I let out another heavy sigh and push myself back, resting on my knees. “Believe me - inside, I know I can’t bear to lose you. I want us to work out, in the end. But we need to work through some stuff. I need to see if I can forgive what you’ve done to me, and if you can change. We can only move forwards if we’re not chained to the past.”

Dan’s bottom lip trembles. There are already tears down his face. He looks mad, but in a sad, distressed way. Like a child throwing a tantrum as a parent leaves them.

“Fine,” he cries. “Have your time alone. But don’t you dare think I’m not coming back for you.”

I nod, making the deal. What could he do anyway, if he comes back and I don’t want him? Nothing.

Dan throws me the key to my cuffs in a huff and storms out the room. So I start to get his things ready: I collect all his stuff from around my room and pack as much as I can into his bags. Meanwhile, Dan is along the corridor, letting Peej go. I hear the door open and shut downstairs, signalling his leave. When Dan comes back, he doesn’t even look me in the eye. I’m not surprised by that. I think he’s more upset than angry, otherwise he’d be trying to intimidate me.

Finally, come a few hours later, Dan stands at my front door with all this belongings already packed into his car. He stands with his head bowed, sniffling quietly.

“Do…” he sobs. “Do you really have to kick me out? After everything?”

I know his game: he wants me to pity him, to feel guilty, and let him stay. I’ve started to know him too well.

“I don’t know how long we’ll need, but you have to think about us too. Think about how to make our relationship work, because, if you can’t, then we’ll never work out.”

He doesn’t say anything else. He walks out into the dawn with a solemn walk, slamming the door behind him.

 


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, angst, mentions of manipulation/Stockholm Syndrome, brief implications of drugging/drugged sex**

I sit idly on my bed.

Jesus, it’s quiet.

This house is so empty without -

No, stop thinking about him. It’s so unhealthy. I can’t keep letting myself romanticise him like this.

Yet, even still, I can’t help it. I’ve been conditioned to.

I feel like crying. Maybe it’s the loneliness, or the heartbreak. Is it truly heartbreak? I don’t think I’ll find a conventional definition for this situation. It feels like heartbreak. My illusion has been shattered - the illusion that Dan planted inside my head.

Wait. Now that I think about it, did he really plant it? Or was that all  _my_  doing? Sure - he wanted me to like him, and not fear him or hate him. But Dan didn’t suppress the memories of our bad times:  _I_ did that. Without even realising it.

How many times… How many times did he mention any of that?

_“Initially,” Dan continues, drawing my attention back to him. “I was still working when I came to see you. That’s why I couldn’t stay for long. But once you started becoming a problem, I realised I had to stay with you. So I quit.”_

_“I only tied you up…” Dan says that in a low whisper. “… Because I was scared to lose you. Sober, you didn’t even seem to like me. So I had to get you to accept these feelings, because I knew that’s what you’d want.”_

_“You must be extra relieved,” Dan tells me quietly. “She never mentioned anything to falsify your claim about the family holiday.”_

_“I…” Dan starts. I turn my head to him in intrigue, but he’s not looking at me. His other hand tightens round the bar in front of us. He looks… nervous. “I really regret a lot of the things I’ve done to you… before… And if I could take it all back… if I could start all this again…”_

_I squeeze his hand tightly. “It’s okay,” I shush him softly. “I’ve forgiven you. I forgive everything.”_

My heart tightens at that memory.

I… I said I’d forgiven him. I forgave him. I wasn’t even thinking when I said it, but I remember being reminded of the general idea.

Dan wanted my forgiveness. He didn’t want me to forget. No wonder he got so upset with me, acting like I was still mad about it all. God, he must be so confused. He must hate me right now, at least a little.

Maybe… maybe I should I apologise.

No. No! I’m doing it again! Just because I’m in the wrong doesn’t mean Dan isn’t too. There’s  _so_ much wrong with him. Just look at what he’s done to me: the kidnapping, touching, creepiness, stalking - fucking  _everything_. I never asked for any of this from him. I never had a choice.

I can’t pick and choose my memories anymore, not at all:

 _“But, you see, Phil…” he sings. “I_ want _to regret the things I did, the things that hurt you. But if I had to do all this again, try to make you love me right from the start, now that I know that every single thing I did led to this - to success - I can’t bring myself to regret any of it.” Then, he shows me a sweet little smile._

 _“No - it’s not right that I can’t do what I want just because you’re a cry baby. I mean - you’ve always gotten what_ you _want. The minute_  I _want something, I can’t have it.”_

He’s twisted. Messed-up. Obsessive. Desperate. Lonely… Hopeful… Loving…

I slam my fists against the wall to stop myself.

… I’ve really lost it. I’ve lost my mind.

I don’t want to think about him anymore.

I jump over to my desk and flip open my laptop, starting up Skype. I have to talk to someone else. I need Peej.

I stop myself: my fingers freeze on the keys.

Isn’t this exactly what Dan says about me? Don’t I always go running to the two of them, at the slightest sign of loneliness, or any of my own problems? Now that I think about it, hasn’t Peej said it too? Has he? I can’t recall. But he must have. Yes, he did:

_Peej looks away from me. “You should know what’s wrong.” Fuck, should I? “You’ve shut me out. You made me think that you wouldn’t do that. Why did I believe you? You’ve already done it before.” I gulp, guilt building in my stomach. “I understood it that time, though: you had him.”_

I slouch in my seat. Peej won’t want to talk to me. Especially not after what’s just happened.

I guess… I guess we all need time.

…

…

_Ugh, this is boring!_

I bring up Peej’s contact on Skype and start typing out a message.

**Phil:** _Hey. Wanna talk?_

A while passes without a word. I check out YouTube in the meantime: I haven’t actually caught up with Peej’s or Dan’s videos, let alone what’s going on on my own channel. Dan has been tending to it these days - these  _past_ days.

I check out Dan’s channel first: there isn’t much, as usual - just one extra video called  _How to use a gimp_ , which I don’t think I’ll bother with watching.  _How to Befriend Your Favourite Internet Stars,_  however, is annoyingly still up. I don’t think I could ever convince him to take it down. But nothing new.

I switch over to Peej’s channel next, not being able to recall the last time I looked on here. He has one new video that I know I haven’t seen yet, from the eighteenth -  _mini adventure_. I click on it and watch intently.

When it opens, Peej is sitting right up close to the camera, without looking at it.

 _“Stop whatever you’re doing right now, and…”_ He looks up into the camera.  _“… Let’s go on a mini adventure.”_ He raises his eyebrows a little, in a small pleading gesture.  _“Sound good?”_

A faint and soft piano melody begins in the background. Peej nods and shows the audience a little smile.  _“Good.”_

The screen fades out and arrives on a beautiful snowy setting.

As the video plays on, a montage of scenic views, I realise how calm and happy it makes me.

Peej has always been good at that. He has a passionate interest in psychedelia - affecting a person’s thoughts and feelings through merely a screen - and it comes across brilliantly in every video he makes. Personally, I’ve always loved these ones far more than his vlogs. He’s too awkward and clumsy when he talks. He’s like a mix of me and Dan - he doesn’t script his videos, but he probably should, because he can’t think quick enough like I can.

I know I shouldn’t criticise him, or Dan, because I’ve been doing this for far longer, and I wasn’t good from the start,  _and_ I can’t say I’m any good now. I’m not an expert. But I can compliment them when I want, because in that sense I know I’m right - Peej is good at this. He’s a creative little soul with a brilliant imagination, a brilliant mind, and a dreamy sense of adventure. It’s like he’s always seeing a different world to everyone else, like, perhaps, he’s seeing another layer that no one else can, and it’s beautiful. Sometimes, it feels like he’s not really with the rest of us. His mind is always somewhere else.

I miss him. I really do. I miss our friendship, and what we used to be.

Maybe it’s just my mind warping this, because of my own loneliness, but Peej looks incredibly sad in this video. He looks… lonely, too. Even his smile doesn’t feel even the faintest bit true.

I consider when he made this. What happened around the eighteenth? His captivity ended near the beginning of the month, and I didn’t speak to him until… until the London Gathering. That Gathering was the thirteenth, right? And then we went back to Dan’s house. And his birthday! His birthday was the eleventh. Maybe he didn’t make this video after the Gathering, but rather, around his birthday? I don’t think we’d ever missed each other’s birthday before that. Maybe that’s why.

But what about Chris? They’re good friends, aren’t they? And they’ve known each other since before the Halloween Gathering. Wouldn’t Peej have had him to talk to? He probably did. Why do I keep having to make things about myself?

 _Ding!_ Skype goes off. I switch over to it.

Peej has replied.

**Peej:** _He’s gone again, hasn’t he?_

I slouch again.

**Phil:** _How did you know?_

**Peej:** _You never message when he’s around. I doubt he lets you._

I won’t dare tell him that it never comes to mind.

**Peej:** _And I don’t want to talk._

My heart falls.

**Phil:** _Are you sure?_

**Peej:** _Very._

For a minute, I can’t think of what to do. I don’t want to drop this, because I don’t want to spend this time alone. But, at the same time, will pushing on this only drive Peej further away?

**Phil:** _Do you want to call?_

**Peej:** _Why on earth would I?! Don’t you get it?? Everything that he does is to try and push me away. How stupid would I have to be to keep trying to see you?_

He continues.

**Peej:** _I don’t want to talk about it, but after what’s just happened, I couldn’t bear to see you again if I wanted to. Either of you._

I sit back in my desk chair and let out a disappointed sigh. What am I supposed to do now? At this rate, I’ll really lose him, all thanks to Dan. But Dan isn’t here anymore - he can’t stop me from getting close to Peej again.

**Phil:** _I miss you._

A while passes in silence. Peej starts typing, then backspacing, and typing again.

**Peej:** _But you /know/. You remember what happened. I can’t face that._

I reply without hesitating - there’s only right answer here.

**Phil:** _I can’t remember much at all. The drug made me tired, and I couldn’t focus on anything, or remember it, and I kept passing out. Every waking moment felt like a dream where I couldn’t figure out where I was or remember one moment to the next. I didn’t even know it was you, Peej. I don’t even know what we did._

Peej doesn’t respond for quite some time. I wonder if he’ll believe me, if he won’t, or he’ll convince himself he does.

**Peej:** _Did we…_

He can’t say it.

**Peej:** _Am I not…_

My stomach twists up at the thought.

 **Phil:** _I don’t know_ , is all I can say.  _I can’t remember. But I don’t think Dan would ever let that happen._

Silence again.

**Peej:** _You’re right._

I don’t know if he really believes that. Maybe he really can remember what happened, too, and he’s testing me. But how could I ever answer that truthfully? All we can hope for is to forget it, someday.

**Peej:** _Thank you._

I sigh in relief this time and relax into the chair. Alright. I’m not going to lose him.

Peej starts typing again. I wonder what he’s going to bring up now.

**Peej:** _I think I need to tell you something now._

Oh? That’s new.

**Phil:** _Okay. I’m listening._

**Peej:** _Could we maybe call?_

I feel warm at the suggestion, glad to return to old times.

**Phil:** _Sure._

_“Phil, what is it now?” Peej groans, rolling his eyes. “It’s three in the morning. I have to get up in a few hours. Just because you don’t have any commitments anymore doesn’t mean I don’t either. Plus,” he sighs. “You’re drunk. Aren’t you?”_

_Phil rubs his eyes lethargically. “Am not…” he slurs obviously. “I’m wide awake and a hundred and ten percent sober.”_

_Peej just sighs and shakes his head._ Idiot _, he thinks to himself. He really needs to stop drinking: he’s terrible at it. Plus, every time he gets drunk…_

_He shakes away the thought. No point thinking about that now, especially with it happening all over again.  Phil never seems to fail at mentioning how lovelorn he is when he’s tipsy. It must be over twenty times now. Although, Peej doesn’t really hate it. It’s nice to hear someone thinking of him like that for once. Especially at a time like this._

_“Peej…” Phil starts -_ oh god, here he starts _. “Do you know why I drink?”_

_Peej lets himself have a little chuckle. “Because you’re a loser?” Phil whines. “A loner?” A grunt this time. “Chronically depressed?”_

_“You’re a prick,” Phil moans. Peej just laughs. “But you’re not wrong, actually. I think I drink because I’m bored, and I guess_ that’s  _because I’m lonely.”_

_Phil’s face falls, and Peej notices quickly._

_“Phil,” he calls carefully. “You realise we haven’t spoken in months, don’t you?”_

_Phil sighs mournfully. “Yeah. Why?”_

Oh? _Peej frowns. “Well, it’s just - ”_

_“Do you want me to go?”_

_“No! No, of course not!” Peej yelps, panicking. “I love that we’re talking again. I just wondered if there’s a special reason for it, that’s all.”_

_Yes, apparently, as Phil lets out a long groan and throws his body back against the bed - now, Peej can’t see him._

_“I’m loneeely!” he screams, which - though it probably shouldn’t - makes Peej laugh. “I physically can’t have friends, apparently! I mean, with you, I fucked it up myself because I’m stupid. But this time it’s_ him _!”_

 _Peej frowns again at that. “Who’s_ him _? A new friend?”_

_There’s silence from Phil’s end. Peej guesses he probably just tried to nod or shake his head._

_Phil continues, in a very whiny tone. “He’s just so damn clingy! He wants to talk all the time and I just can’t do it. He likes me sooooo much, and he’s really cringy sometimes! I can’t keep pretending to be happy like this when we call.” He heaves himself up again, into frame, and Peej can see him - with that lovely pouty face of his. “I wish he were more like you.”_

_Shit - Peej struggles to cover his face with his sleeve as those words bring out a blush on his cheeks. “You don’t mean that,” he struggles out._

_“Oh god, I do,” Phil groans back. That wasn’t so much the compliment Peej thought it was, then. He drops his head into his hands and lets out an incredibly loud cry of frustration._

_“Who is this, by the way?” Peej asks, cautious yet curious. “You never mentioned any other friends whilst we were hanging out.”_

_Phil looks at the camera then - through the gaps between his fingers - and dismissively shrugs his shoulders._

_“He’s just an internet friend,” Phil moans. “You wouldn’t know him.”_

_Fuck, now Peej is_ really _curious._

_“How did you meet him?”_

_“Err, YouTube.” Phil isn’t looking at his laptop anymore - his eyes are wandering to the desk (probably looking for another drink). “He’s a fan of my videos. Has been for years. So I talked to him.”_

_Peej’s heart is pounding. He feels… jealous. No. Surely not. He and Phil stopped being friends ages ago, and that was Phil’s careless fault. Why should he care now?_

_“What’s his name?” Phil doesn’t answer. “Oh god, please tell me you know his name.”_

_“I do!” he yells, shooting his gaze back to the camera. “It’s Dan. I call him Daniel sometimes to piss him off, and it makes him blush.”_

_Dan. Peej considers that name well. He might have seen a Dan before, actually. Somewhere… In the comments on Phil’s videos? No - Twitter! They tweeted each other back-and-forth non-stop for ages. And if they’re friends now, Peej thinks, this must be the right one._

_Dan. Peej’s replacement._

But it’s okay,  _Peej tells himself._ Really. Phil doesn’t seem to like him, so they won’t be friends for long. He even misses me - Phil wishes Dan were more like me. That’s a good sign, right?

 _When Peej looks back to his laptop screen, he sees Phil taking a huge swig from a can. He lets himself chuckle._ Maybe he won’t remember tonight, anyway.

_“Phil - ”_

_“We had the biggest fucking argument today, too!” Phil suddenly bursts out with, interrupting. “Apparently he wanted to meet up with me - and he kept begging me to watch his videos, but_ god  _do they suck! I think I need to drop him.” He grins. “Yeah. I’ll just stop talking to him, stop responding. Eventually he’ll get the message.”_

_At that, Peej’s heart starts to break. That’s too familiar._

_Suddenly, Phil’s eyes go wide - like he’s just struck gold in his mind - and he gestures with his can to the camera._

_“Just like I dropped you!”_

_Peej’s heart shatters painfully._

_Maybe he was wrong. Maybe they won’t go back to being friends._

_Then again, Phil never has been the nicest person. He’s sweet and kind on the surface, but when you_ really _pay attention - or just get him drunk - you realise how mean he really is. Phil’s main problem is that he’s too self-centred. Peej figured that out when their friendship was starting to crumble. And that’s why he let it go - right when he realised his excuse about his parents was a big, blatant lie._

_Peej sighs to himself and takes in a slow, deep breath. It’s stupid that he feels the urge to cry right now. It’s stupid and pitiful but he can’t stop it. Isn’t it sad? Rationally, he knows how toxic and frustrating and uncaring Phil can be, but Peej is still so desperate to have him back in his life._

_It’s new, this kind of feeling, and it hurts. It’s hurts more than it probably should. It feels like an addiction: the pain might disappear if he can only get close again._

_“Why…” Peej starts, his voice painfully quiet. “Why haven’t you dropped him already then? Why do you keep toying with him like this?”_

_Phil - not catching onto the tone - simply shrugs. “I don’t know. There’s just something about him. It’s like… it’s like, I tell myself I’ll answer the call just so I can see his stupid face one more time. It makes me feel good when he blushes. And, you know, he’s nice to look at.”_

_Peej darts his eyes up, then. “What?” he cries in shock._

_Phil just smiles, engrossed in his own thoughts like always, and he lets out a soft sigh. “He’s just so cute. I can’t really pinpoint what it is about him, though. Really, I quite like the whole package. You know, now that I think about it, I’d quite like to steal a kiss from those lips of his. They look super kissable.”_

_To make it worse, Phil subconsciously licks his lips._

_Peej’s eyes are wide. “You… Phil, are you gay?”_

_Phil’s attention is brought back to the video call again. “What? Oh, yeah. Wait - shit.” He hits himself on the head with the can. “I said I’d never tell you that.”_

Holy fuck.

No no, Peej, stop fixating. Stop it. That’s not how you feel about this. It isn’t. You’re not gay.

_That’s what Peej tells himself._

_“It’s weird,” Phil talks to himself still, as though Peej were nothing but a brick wall to vent at. “I never thought about you like that.”_

I can’t say,  _Peej thinks,_ that I’ve never thought about  _you_  like that.

Skype’s little jingle plays as Peej calls me - we always agreed that he would be the one to click call, just to keep things simple - and as it falls away, Peej’s video appears on my screen.

“Hey,” I say quietly, unable to help feeling awkward about seeing him again.

Peej’s eyes glance to me and away again quickly. “… Hey…” he mutters back.

“So… what do you want to tell me?”

His cheeks… are they red?

He curls into himself slightly and takes in a deep breath.

“You know…” he struggles to start. “You and Dan… you’re dating, right?”

I bite my lip at the mention. “In a way… I guess we are. Why?”

He pauses for a while. “I have no clue how to word this,” he sighs. “When did you find out - that he liked you?”

I consider that - starting to feel incredibly awkward within myself. “Well… I didn’t know until he started all of… of  _this_ , so it wasn’t exactly normal.” I shrug. “I’m sorry.”

He lets out another sigh and clenches his fingers round his legs (they’re tucked up into his chest, keeping him small and hidden from my sight as much as possible).“Then… do you know how  _you_ realised you liked him?”

I swallow tensely. “Why are we talking about this? I thought you wanted to tell me something. Why is my and Dan’s relationship important?”

Peej doesn’t say anything - he only starts to blush.

_Oh._

“H-holy crap,” I gasp. “You like someone?”

Even redder.

“Peej!” I squeal in delight. “This is amazing! You’ve never talked about this before!” He lets out a little giggle and starts to uncurl. “Who is she?!”

At that, he seems to choke. “Umm… W-well, it’s a little complicated…” He clears his throat. “You see… I met them at one of the Gatherings, and then we became friends… after a while, they said that they liked me, and I… I didn’t reject them. S-so we’ve been hanging out for a while, you know, testing the waters, and I think I like them too… and I think… we’re technically dating…” He glances up at me again, looking desperate for approval. “Does that make sense?”

I stare at him for a long time. Surely… No, it has to be. No one ever uses those pronouns unless they’re keeping the gender secret.

“Peej…” I ask him carefully. “This isn’t a girl, is it?”

His eyes, involuntarily, go wide and blank with shock.

“Don’t worry about it!” I squeal, wishing I hadn’t worried him like that. “It’s alright! Don’t freak out!” Why does my body seem so shaky now? My heart feels like it’s lodged in my throat. I’m so excited - Peej is like me! “I’m really proud of you!”

I show him a big, happy smile.

Eventually, he gives me a small smile back.

“T-thanks,” he whispers - he looks so pale now. I think he needs a nice long rest after this. “It's… Chris. My… my boyfriend. It’s Chris.” He’s blushing again now -  _there’s the colour!_ “I haven’t told him yet, but… but I…” He hides his head behind his knees again. “… I think I really like him.”

My heart returns to my chest again, fluttering now rather than going crazy. “That’s so cute!” I cry, ecstatic. Then, coming down, I let out a tired sigh and show him a content smile. “I hope you’re really happy with him.”

Peej smiles back. “I hope so too…” he hums shyly back.

In that moment, I make a decision - one that I should have made a long time ago. “Go be with him, Peej. You don’t need me anymore. Being with me only gets you in trouble, and I can’t let you do that anymore.”

“But - ”

“I’m a _terrible_  person,” I interrupt him. “And an even worse friend. I can’t keep dragging you over every time I get lonely. Go be with Chris now. Okay?”

Peej’s mouth is stuck open, the shape of something to say frozen inside. Eventually, he closes it, and shows me a grateful smile.

“I will. I promise.”

I show him another smile. “Happy birthday, Peej.”

His face goes a little red and his smile brightens. “Thanks. And happy new year.”

He ends the call.

 


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, angst, mentions of manipulation/Stockholm Syndrome, vague smut and mentions of terror (flashbacks)**

Now alone -  again - I don’t have another soul to turn to this time. I can’t distract myself from the Dan question anymore. I’m here, and he’s not, so we can think about this properly. Although, I know of course that Dan may not be thinking about it at all, that he’s rather wallowing in anger and planning a plot for revenge. But, even then, what can he do? He must know the choice that faces him here. There are two outcomes to this predicament: either he’s considerate, and lets me love him, or he’s difficult. If Dan doesn’t want me to love him after all, if he only wants to take what he wants, then I will never love him. What price will he pick?

This is going to take a lot of thinking about. I know, whether or not I truly  _love_ him, that I can’t deny I have true feelings for him. I love having Dan with me - the cute, childlike Dan who blushes at my praise and cuddles into me at night. I love holding him in my arms, playing with his hair, and kissing him. I love how intimate we can get together. None of that can be denied. And if I could get my way - my complete, uninhibited, unadulterated desires - he would be my boyfriend, and our relationship would be exactly like it was for Christmas.

Well. Isn’t that a change from October?

But, despite all that, I don’t know if I have the energy to keep trying with him. He pretends, and he’s false with me, so I can’t ever know who he truly is. I can’t know if the innocent or psychotic versions of him are real or pretend. I can’t know, if I promise to be with him, that all those horrid things won’t happen again. I don’t want to live my life in constant fear. I also don’t want to live in ignorance, having forgotten once again everything he’s done. I want to stay aware. But I also want to be happy.

I decide on a plan of action: my perspective and my memories are untrustworthy, so I need to see things from a bird’s eye view.

I sit in front of my laptop again and search through my most recent files, quickly finding what I’m looking for - our sex tape. (Oh god, that sounds hilariously unserious when I call it that). I grab a pair of headphones and lean forwards intently, keeping my eyes fixed on the screen, as the scene plays out.

_“So what do you want to do?” I sit back from the camera, fixing my hair quickly. “Have a little chat? Do a little sketch? Or do you want to actually film something we might use?”_

_Dan doesn’t say anything - he’s taking his shirt off behind me. I glance around and freeze at the sight of him, and he smiles suggestively._

_“_ Oh god.  _You can’t be serious.”_

_His smile widens. “You should know me by now. I’ve been starved, Phil.” He keeps talking, fully unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off his shoulders - me, on the other hand, I’m sitting there frozen, facing away from the camera, fixated on him._

_We fall into silence - or, more accurately,_ I  _keep silent - and Dan falls onto his hands and knees and crawls up to me. He’s even deliberately swinging his hips a little, trying to tempt me. When he reaches me, he pushes himself up again and leans his head dangerously close to mine, bringing his hands to the buttons on my shirt and undoing them slowly._

_“You feel the same…” he purrs. “Right?”_

There! I can see it! I pause the video quickly, making sure I’m not kidding myself. In his eyes, as he looks at me, is expectation, and a hint of anxiety. He’s pressing me to say  _yes_ with just that look alone. Maybe I already knew that, but I can’t remember picking that up before.

 _After a few more words, Dan brings his hands to my neck and kisses my lips, and I fall into them right away -_ god, I’m such a whore -  _he pulls us up onto our feet and lays himself down on the bed, dragging me with him, holding me close. One of my legs is already between his, ready to press into his crotch._ Am I really going to be able to watch this? It doesn’t seem weird so far.

_Dan brings my head away quickly and frowns at me. “What’s wrong?”_

_I shake my head. “Nothing,” I say unconvincingly. “It’s just… well, we’ve never actually had sex here… on my bed… It feels weird.”_

Huh. Now that I really think about it, what  _have_ we done on my bed? We… umm, we sucked each other off - that was the first thing. No - he played with me for a bit first, when I was tied up, right? Was that it? And that video… that recording of me as his hostage, that happened there too. What else? Have we really only kissed and cuddled on this bed? Even with Peej here, when I was sneaking out to see Dan, the only big thing that happened was when I kissed him. There aren’t many times that I’ve truly been the one to kiss him first.

 _Dan wraps his arms around the middle of my back and pulls me into him, holding me close. “Don’t stress about it,” he purrs seductively -_ fuck, he’s good at getting me in the mood, I’m even tempted right now -  _and his fingers start to play gently along the curve of my spine. “Let’s just fix that right away, then.”_

_Dan kisses me again, leaving conversation behind, and his hands play up my back._

It does feel weird, watching this as a spectator rather than actually being there in the flesh. I can still feel all those touches, as I watch them, and remember them, like a ghost against my skin. It feels like, if I close my eyes, I’ll be taken back there, and when I open them again, Dan will be beneath me.

_As I kiss him now, Dan’s hands slide down to my trousers, tucking his fingers in and dragging them down. I pull away briefly to take them off myself, then lean down to work at his._

_“Does this feel weird for you?” he asks me quietly, in a whisper, probably not meant for the camera to pick up. “Knowing we’re being filmed?”_

_I pause for a moment. “A little. But in a good way.”_

_Dan giggles. “It feels like we’re pornstars.”_

_I chuckle back and tug his joggers down and off his legs. Then, I reach down, pressing my mouth against the shape of his erection through his boxers, and Dan lets out a short, surprised cry._

Maybe I did that because of the atmosphere, but I certainly hadn’t before. Dan was right - being filmed did make the air feel more… sexual, than usual.

I watch on, coming to the part that I really wanted to watch this for:

_I push myself inside him and we both let out a sigh of satisfaction at the contact. Dan’s hands wrap around my neck and his fingers press tightly into my skin, desperately holding me close. I meet our lips and continue to kiss him, letting our tongues entwine, panting breathlessly into each other’s mouths._

This is the thing I needed to see, being detached for once, because I always lose myself in the moment with him. From here, I can see not only myself, but Dan as well, with an aware and focused eye. (Well, mostly. This is still hot to watch).

As I watch on, watching intently, I can confidently confirm that me having sex with Dan isn’t weird - it’s normal, basically. There’s no undertone of weirdness because of how we started off. I’m genuinely enjoying myself with him, and it’s not weird. I sigh out in relief.

Then, I watch Dan.

_I stop kissing him and drop my head into his shoulder. And Dan, laying beneath me, tightens his fingers round my neck. He turns his head to me, but, unable to see my face, looks along my back. His eyes watch fixatedly on how our bodies move together and he won’t stop looking._

I wonder what he’s thinking. I wonder if he thinks, and, if he does, if he imagines a whole different scenario.

_At a certain point, his body shudders, he lets out an unexpected moan, and drops his head back onto the bed. There, his eyes close, and his arms squeeze me even tighter._

_“Phil…” he moans._

_“… I love you…”_

_His eyes open wide. His mouth drops open but he doesn’t say anything._

_“… I love you, Dan…”_

I can see, every time I say it, Dan’s eyes sparkle happily, and his fingers twitch against my skin. His hips even buck a little. Do those words really affect him that much?

I stop watching it there. Any more will probably just be embarrassing.

 _So_ , I think to myself, taking it all in.  _What exactly did I learn from that?_

Well, right now I want to have sex with Dan again. But that’s no surprise, and the desire will fade after a while. But, even now, I don’t look on at him with hate or disgust, or even fear. At first sight, he’s  _my Dan_  - the one I had over Christmas.

As I close the video, my screen returns to the page where my files are shown, and - wait. Huh? What’s all this in the recent files? More videos? They’re huge!

I open one at random, out of curiosity. Surely this is Dan’s doing. He’s been using my laptop far more than I have all this time.

The footage is fuzzy and very bad quality, and there’s no sound. I check, putting my volume up high - aha, it’s a load of static now. So there’s certainly something. But, either way, this certainly isn’t mine.

The video shows my room, from an angle I’m unfamiliar with. Thinking about it, I locate where it’s coming up, and look around my room. It must be from my wardrobe, and high up at that. Looking very carefully, I lift up some paper stacked on the top of my wardrobe, and a chunk of metal falls heavily to the floor. I inspect it from here, instantly realising what it is: it’s the camera. Dan’s camera. His CCTV on me.

How long has this been here?

So this video… this footage… what on earth could be on here?

I look at the title:  _2010-25102009_. What the hell is all that? Is it random? Is that normally how files - videos at that - are named?  _2010_ looks like a year. But so does  _2009._  Why would it be 2010 anyway?

_The covers stir slightly and something lets out a little groan._

My eyes dart back to the screen. Is that… is someone in the bed?

_Their head lifts up off the pillow slightly, frowns, and falls back down again._

_CRASH! Something from elsewhere._

_“Well, shit,” a voice sighs distantly._

_The body flinches. Their legs jump up, trying to get beneath them, but they slip and fall back onto the bed again. Their eyes are wide now. They lift their arms - the covers only lie at their legs - and they stare at the sight. The wrists are bound tightly with rope. The legs wriggle next, seemingly in the same state._

_After a minute of stillness, in waiting, the bedroom door clicks unlocked and swings open, and Dan pokes his head round, seeing the bed, and smiles._

_“Dan?!” the person cries from the bed, their covers now pulled up by their face._

_“Good morning!” Dan sings cheerily back, bringing his bowl over to the desk. “How are you? Did you have a nice, long sleep?”_

Oh god.  _2010_  - 20th of October. This is when everything started.

This is that footage? Is it all of it, those files, right here on my laptop?

Surely this was a mistake. Dan couldn’t have meant to leave these here. He wanted me to forget, didn’t he? Or at least, he preferred it when I had. Right? Or not? I can’t remember.

But now… maybe I can use this. I wanted to see things from a different, detached perspective, didn’t I? Well now’s my chance. I can see everything.

So… what do I want to see?

Since I conclude  _2510_ to mean the 25th October, I decide to check Saturday night, and the events before Dan returned home for the first time. Other than that, during that first week, there wasn’t anything that didn’t involve sex. That surprises me - is that  _really_ how that first week went down? Through - well, not sex, but sexual stuff. But why? I wonder if it means that Dan is incredibly impulsive when he acts. After all - what  _real_ progress did he make with me besides that? He was either too impulsive, too impatient, or he just didn’t know what he was doing. Or, most likely, it was a mixture.

I sit patiently through the footage - near the very end of the video.

_I sit on the bed - legs drawn up and bound, arms folded into my chest and bound, mouth taped over. Dan arches over the desk, holding a camera in one hand and sorting out his fringe with the other. He then hovers his hand over the knife laid ready on the desk. He takes a deep breath in before taking it._

I skip all this - I can watch that anytime on YouTube if I wanted, and I don’t really plan on sitting through him masturbating me.

I click play again once Dan has already turned both our heads to the camera on the desk. (Why in bloody hell has he filmed this twice? How many cameras does he have on me?! Is he planning on making all this into a film someday, with all these extra angles? Jesus Christ.)

 _Dan brings the knife sharply through my wrist binds and pressing the edge against my throat._ Even now, that makes my breath hitch - like watching an underwater scene on TV.

_“You had a choice, Phil,” Dan seethes, fuming. “And you chose the bad one.”_

From this angle - above the wardrobe, of course - I can clearly see both of our faces. And even so, the body is far more telling. I, for one, have completely seized up, so much that my body is trembling, and my eyes are wider than I ever thought they could be; inside, they’re mostly blank, covered entirely with terror, like they can’t see anything past Dan, right here, in front of them. And Dan… strangely, he’s trembling too. But I can’t tell why. The way he holds himself, and the face he pulls - they all show dominance, like an Alpha. He’s obviously trying to intimidate me. But… but apart from that… his eyes show something different.

Now, with that said, I wonder:

_His eyes go sad - and it’s painful when I make them do that, because it’s the reaction of a child. “Don’t you know? I was lying. I was just playing a part. It wasn’t real - nothing I said was.” He leans down further, until his breath is running against my lips. “I can’t do that to you.”_

_“I always pretended to be someone I wanted to be, everything felt like I was on stage, or in front of some camera, like my life has always been a performance.” His eyes well up - he’s starting to cry. “That’s what happened when I got stuck in this mess with you. That’s why I keep shifting from nice to psycho - because I can’t help myself.”_

Maybe… were those words of his true? Were all of those scenes… just a pretence on his part? Could I bear to believe that? To  _let_ myself dream of such a truth?

 _“I tried, Phil,” Dan sighs - a hint of sadness clear in his voice._  I’ve known him to truly be sad, and that doesn’t sound fake to me. But none of me is surprised there: of course he was upset - I had rejected him, and tried to trick him.  _“I wanted this to be good for you. But you rejected me. So I won’t be nice anymore.”_

_His hand grabs my wrist and pins my arm to the side, my hand dangling off the edge of the bed. I’m not looking at him - my head is turned away, my brow twitching in distress, and my eyes are tightly shut._

_“Open your eyes,” Dan sighs to me. “It won’t be fun if you don’t watch.”_

_Reluctantly, I open my eyes, staring nervously at him._

I watch Dan intently in this scene, looking out for his reaction.

 _He’s grinning at me - all until he brings the knife down on my wrist, my eyes following with. At that, at my averted gaze, the smile drops, and he suddenly looks very nervous. Dan bites his lips and his chest expands quickly as he takes in a deep breath. At the sound of my cries, he seems to flinch, his brow twitching slightly, ever so briefly, into a flash of a distressed expression._  I can’t be imagining that.

So… so he isn’t so happy to hurt me. Can that be right? All of the times that he’s done it - he hasn’t been ecstatic? Even worse… rather, he’s been  _reluctant?_

Deciding that should be enough, I move the mouse up to the screen and click on the video to make it stop - fuck, I clicked on the bottom bit instead, and the video now plays a dark scene from a slightly earlier time. I just roll my eyes, thinking nothing of it, and move the mouse up to the  _x_ in the corner.

_Sobbing._

_Huh?_

I look back the screen, roused by the sound.  _The covers ruffle slightly._  It’s hard to make out with the added darkness. This must be at night. But I make out my shape, and Dan’s - since he’s always on the left of me in bed.  _His hand reaches out from under the covers, between us, holding mine in his grasp. His fingers squeeze mine tightly. As he stares at our hands, he lets out another pained cry, followed by a sniffle. I’m asleep, I believe. My body isn’t moving._ I don’t remember this happening, either.

 _Dan leans forwards and presses his lips against mine, still and unaware._ My own lips tingle at the sight.  _He pulls away again and starts to sob even harder. His head falls into my neck and he buries himself against my body - he even grabs my other arm and settles it around himself. Even still, laying there inside my limbs, his crying continues._

I’ve never heard him cry like that before.

I turn the video off after that and close my laptop.

Without another thought on that, and trying to get it out of my head, I decide to take a shower. But it’s hopeless. Even the loud sounds of gushing water can’t distract me from such an unusual sight.

Why would Dan be crying like that? At night? In bed with me? Did it happen a lot, or just the once? What was he thinking? What brought it on? I didn’t even see what had happened before it. Perhaps it was just a spur-of-the-moment thing. Perhaps he was thinking of something that has nothing to do with me.

I rest my head against the wall. How am I going to get over this?

I wash myself quickly and dry up, get dressed into my pyjamas, and tuck myself tightly into bed. And yet, even still, my mind won’t stop racing. It feels like a fireworks’ display in my head, with thoughts coming from every direction, bringing all my attention to them, branching out with loads of different paths to think down, before they disappear into the dark. And, of course, who can ever sleep through fireworks?

I groan and haul myself out of bed, settling myself down at my desk again.

I watch through every night that we spent together, eyes glued to the screen. I wasn’t wrong:  _every single one of those nights, without fail, Dan grabs my hand tightly and sobs into my chest. It doesn’t stop from a long time._

I watch through the next batch after that, the times with Peej around, just my room’s footage still. I skip to the days when me and Peej were held in his - my parents’ - room, and Dan was spending most of his time in my room. I sit through the footage on fast-forward, since for most of it Dan is either off cooking or staring at my laptop screen, supposedly watching us live. Could he do that? I don’t actually know how his camera system works.  _Most nights, this time, Dan stays up, eyes glued to the screen for hours on end._ When he does close it down and curl up in bed (probably because we’re in bed, too), I slow it down, and once again, my ears fill with the sounds of him crying.  _Beneath the covers, he wraps his arms around a pillow and cuddles it tightly, sobbing into it. He cries for a long, long time, before eventually falling asleep._

I fall asleep at some point, too. When I wake up, the sun has risen, and I’m exhausted.

I don’t bother to get dressed. Or have breakfast. Or wash. I don’t even bother to move. I rub my eyes tiredly and sigh into my hands.

“What am I gonna do…?” I grumble to myself. I feel like crying. I’m tired, irritated, lonely, confused - the list doesn’t stop. And I don’t know how to solve any of it.

I want Dan back.

But I can’t dare to go through all that again.

Even if I wanted to let him go, to finally free myself, what would happen? Dan will come back eventually. He doesn’t want to let me go. And me…? I’m a mess. No doubt he’ll trick me into giving him a second chance. I… I really love him. I can’t let all that go. Would I ever fall out of love, eventually? How long would that take? Would I be able to bear the pain?

I need answers. I need to talk this out.

I need to talk to him.

 


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, angst, mentions of manipulation/Stockholm Syndrome, mentions of smut (top!Phil, sub!Phil)**

**Phil:** _I want to talk._

I sit anxiously at my desk, wanting for the reply. I can’t even be sure that he’ll reply, or that he’ll see it. Actually, that’s stupid - of course he will. He doesn’t even want to spend this time apart. He’s gonna be dying to speak with me again.

Within a minute, my screen turns blue - Dan’s calling me. I smile. But I also feel nervous. We’ve never been in a situation like this before. Won’t he be mad at me? Whatever it is, I hope I’m prepared for it.

I answer the call, and my video appears. But Dan’s doesn’t.

“Hello?” I ask nervously.

“Hi,” Dan says back.

I frown. “Umm, Dan?”

“Yeah. What?”

“… Why isn’t your video on?”

He huffs into the mic. “Does it  _have_ to be?”

Yeah. He’s mad.

Before I can say another word, his video appears on my screen. For a moment, I can’t say anything: he looks terrible. His hair is a greasy, unwashed mess, his clothes look tattered, and his eyes look heavy and red. He really doesn’t look like he’s doing well.

“Dan…” I gasp out. Do I…  _regret_ this?

“Are you happy now?” Dan growls. “Is seeing my face really that important to you?”

I blink myself back into focus. “No, it’s just… we’ve always called with video. It would be strange not to.”

Still, Dan just huffs. “This whole scenario is already strange. Don’t pretend like it isn’t.”

I stare at him for a long while, shocked. This isn’t how I thought he would be right now. If anything, I thought he’d be happy to see me again. But it seems he’s just angry.

“So?” he prompts aggressively. “You want to talk?”

I clear my throat, feeling awkward. “Y-yeah… I want to talk.”

Dan raises his eyebrows at me. “About what?”

I feel the urge to gulp. “I just… want to talk.”

At that, Dan rolls his eyes -  _woah_ , has he done that before? “You  _just_ want to talk? Are you kidding me? You’re the one that wanted to kick me out in the first place! You wanted to be alone! Don’t piss me about like this!”

I feel the familiar rising of terror within my stomach and slouch nervously. “I-I’m sorry. But I… I miss you.”

He looks at me sharply, eyeing me hard. My heart pounds in my chest. Then Dan scoffs. “It’s been two days, Phil. You really miss me already?”

“But - !” I cry back. “Don’t you miss me too?”

“Of fucking  _course_  I do!” He shoots me an intimidating glare. “I never wanted to leave at all! You forced me out! And now you  _miss me?!_ ”

Oh god - I feel like crying.

“I’m sorry, okay? But I was scared. You pulled some terrifying shit those last few days - how was I supposed to be okay with that? You scared the absolute shit out of me, Dan! You don’t think I’m hurting, too?” I gasp for breath. “I don’t want to be away from you anymore. I want you to come back. But…  _shit_ …” I wipe my eyes quickly. “But I’m still scared of you. I’m terrified of you… tying me down again, and… and torturing me…”

“I don't…” Dan sniffles quietly. “I don’t torture you. That has never been my intention.”

“It may not have been, but it’s what happened either way.”

His face grows mad again.

“If you’re going to waste my time with this, then I might as well go. You need your precious alone time, don’t you?”

My heartbeat quickens - I don’t want to lose him yet, who knows if he’ll respond after this? “No - I want you to come home.”

He stares at me, wordless.

I sigh and drop my head. “I’m sorry. I never should have sent you away. B-but if you come back now, I’m sure we can - ”

“No.”

My heart drops to my stomach. I look up at the screen again, and Dan just looks calm. “What?” I cry. “What do you mean?”

“I mean no. I can’t go back.”

No… Why am I so upset? Why do I want him back so badly, so suddenly? “Why not? Don’t you want to see me?”

He sighs. It looks like there’s something on his mind. “Of course I do. But I just can’t live with you again right now.”

“W-why not?!”

He grumbles a little something under his breath - it sounds like a curse, judging by his tone. “I didn’t think I’d need to tell you yet, but… The only way I could get accepted into the course at Manchester  _and_ take a gap year was by agreeing to do some sort of work experience whilst I’m off - something relevant to Law. So, as of the fourth of January, I’m gonna be working full-time at a law firm in London.” He bites his lip. “For four weeks.”

I just blink. “Are… are you serious? You’re gone for the whole month? And you never told me?!”

He glares at me then. “Well I didn’t want to ruin what we had, okay? You were so happy over Christmas - how could I tell you that I had to disappear for January? You’d get so upset!”

I bow my head, agreeing.

“Then…” I hum, defeated. “Can’t I visit you sometimes? When you’re done for the day, maybe?”

Dan scoffs. “What, in London, at the start of rush hour? Hell no.”

I slump in silence. Dan shuts up too, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“So…” I moan. “Now what?”

Dan sighs harshly. “We wait. Like you wanted to in the first place.”

I’ve learnt, now, after spending so much time with Dan. I can tell when he’s putting on a front. And, right now, he’s doing just that. Sure - he’s mad, but not quite at this. He’s more… annoyed. Disappointed, I guess. I think he wishes we could meet again. After all - that sounds more like him.

“Did you say,” I start shyly, “that this work experience starts on the fourth?”

He shoots me a strange and curious look. “What are you thinking now?”

I look away from the screen, away from his searching, judging eyes. “Well, that's… the fourth is almost a week away. So… can’t we meet for New Year’s? Just the one time?”

Nervously, through the silence, I look back up at him. He’s glaring at me - as usual.

I put on the most pleading look that I can. “Please? I really miss you.”

Dan continues to stare at me.

“Fine.”

I sigh in relief.

“I’ll come to you - but it’s only for tomorrow.”

I show him a smile - a genuine one. “Thank you.”

He ends the call promptly. I really feel like smiling.

Why am I so… so happy? I was terrified at the thought of him just a couple of days ago. So why… why, now, am I so happy to see him again?

I wonder: is it him? Is merely seeing him again enough to make me fall again?

No, that can’t be it. I was the one who wanted to see him. I was the one who started to miss him. I’m the one who can’t stop thinking about him. This… this might be normal. As normal as these feelings can be. I must truly miss him.

I tidy up the house in preparation for Dan’s return, as short as it may be. I don’t eat much for dinner, still - I can’t bring myself to. I’m desperate for Dan to get here. I’m restless. I might not get to sleep tonight.

I watch the tapes as the night passes around me, my headphones on tightly. I watch through the most recent days - the happy days. A small knot tightens inside my chest. My fingers clench in frustration. I want him back already. Why does he have to be so far away?

I wake up to the sound of the front door opening, the jangling of keys, and it shutting again. I jump out of my desk chair and sprint down the stairs, spotting Dan by the porch door.

I grab him and slam him against the wall. I don’t hesitate to press my mouth against his without a word from him. My fingers tighten frantically on his shoulders, keeping him still. I can’t let him get away. I need Dan to stay right where he is.

He shoves me back. “Phil!” he growls. “What the fuck?”

My body starts to shake. “Keep still,” I whine back, pushing against him. “Just… please…”

I can’t get back with him pushing me away like this. It makes me restless. I need to feel him again.

Dan stares at me, shock wide in his eyes.

Then his hands drop down to his sides.

I kiss him again, bringing my hands to his hair and knotting my fingers through it. Dan’s hands play up my back, keeping me close. My tongue slides inside his mouth without thinking and he allows it permissively.

Before I even know it, Dan’s trousers are off and I’m hoisting his legs up and around my waist. His arms wrap round my shoulders tightly.

“It’s okay,” I mumble against his ear, gently kissing his neck. “I won’t let you fall.”

I’m lost in the feeling of it all. Not a single thought passes through my mind as I hold Dan like this once more. But I don’t care,  _oh god_ , I won’t dare care. Because I know this won’t last long, and I don’t want to let it go again. I don’t want Dan to leave me.

I’ve decided. I can’t let Dan leave. We have to stay together.

With my face tucked into his collar, spouting helpless moans into his warm skin, I hear Dan whining by my ear. His fingers bury themselves into my shoulder blades, like he’s trying to keep himself grounded, or he’s trying to keep hold of me. I realise, after a while, that he isn’t just whining - he’s sobbing. I realise I’m doing the exact same thing. I tighten my grasp. I don’t want to be away from him ever again.

I wake up later, exhausted, lying in my own bed this time. Dan lays beside me, but he’s awake - with one of his hands resting on my cheek. One of my arms is wrapped lazily round his waist. I know - struck by the familiarity of the scene - that I wasn’t the one to put it there.

“Hey,” Dan sighs sleepily, showing me a soft little smile. “Did you sleep well?”

I nod back, giving my limbs a quick stretch. “When did I fall asleep?”

“A little while after we came down,” he answers calmly. “I guess you haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

I eye him carefully. “I’d say the same for you.”

He stares at me. Dan doesn’t reply to that.

Carefully, I pull my arm up from round his body and lay my hand gently on his cheek. Dan’s eyes go wide, but he doesn’t say a word.

“I really missed you,” I whisper between us.

Strangely, Dan starts to tear up. “I’ve missed you too.” But, then he sighs, and slides his hand away. “But I have to go soon.”

My heart jumps, alarmed. “What?! But you just got here!”

“I got here hours ago, Phil,” Dan informs me in a sad tone. “We’ve been sleeping for a long time. It’s afternoon already.”

He tries to sit up but I grab onto his arm, pulling him back down to the bed.

“Phil - ” Dan starts, whining.

“Don’t,” I shoot back. “Please. I’ve only just got you back. Stay a while.”

For a while - a long, silent while - Dan just stares at me. He doesn’t say a word. He’s thinking - that much I know for sure.

“I can’t.”

I deflate at the words. “Why not? You don’t start work for another few days.” I find his hand with my own and squeeze it tightly between us. “Why can’t you just stay?”

Strangely, now, Dan doesn’t look at me. It’s like he’s refusing to answer. I frown at him worriedly.

“Are you…” I start hesitantly. “Are you choosing not to be with me?”

Dan’s facial expression gets sadder. He looks distressed. “It’s not like that…” His bottom lip trembles as he speaks, making his voice weak. “I just… I don’t want to fall back into this with you, right now. Because I know I won’t want to go. It’s a whole month, Phil. A whole month without you by my side. How am I supposed to cope with that?” He squeezes my hand briefly before prying his out of my grasp. “I’d rather us be mad at each other than be desperate to see each other.”

My hand quickly feels cold without his anymore.

“But… I don’t want to be mad at you anymore,” I cry back, sitting myself up with him. Carefully, I take both of his hands in mine, and Dan doesn’t object this time. “I want to love you.” Briefly, his hands twitch within my hold. It makes my heart warm. “Can’t we figure something out?”

I must sound mad right now. Begging for more time with Dan, after kicking him out, after everything he’s put me through. But I have to be sensible now. I’ve had my time to whine and complain and kick about like a baby. But the reality is that Dan has only ever treated me badly when he isn’t happy. The answer is obvious: make us both happy. We can be happy together, I just know it. We just need to work together.

“Fine,” I whisper calmly, bringing my hands up to his neck instead and leaning closer. “Don’t think about that for now. Just think about me. Because I’m here - you have me right now - so enjoy me.”

Dan lets me kiss him, wrapping his arms round my back. His back hits the wall and I fall into him, our bodies relaxing against each other. I consider how little time it will take to get our clothes off this time.

I pull away slightly, just enough to speak, still enough to feel Dan’s breath hit my lips. “Should we go to the bathroom?” I suggest. “I don’t think either of us have washed in a while.”

Dan chuckles in agreement and we both move to the bathroom.

We take our clothes off as the water begins to warm up, and then we step inside together, pulling the door closed behind us. It isn’t long before we’re in each other’s arms again, on the floor, Dan’s back against the wall, our mouths pressed together.

Dan’s fingers curve round my jaw and pull me briefly away.

“Are you… Are you sure…?” he pants, already breathless. “… about this?”

I want him to shut up so I can kiss him already. “About what?”

Dan bites his lip. “This… with me.”

At that, I frown. “What are you talking about?”

_Strangely, Dan tuts. “I wasn't…” His hand slides under my head - he grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks it harshly, making me squeal in pain. “… asking for permission.”_

_“Are you excited? Think about how good it’s going to feel, being beneath me for once. I might even have to gag you, or blindfold you - ” I squeal at the thought. My stomach starts twisting up horribly. God, why won’t he stop?_

I tremble at the memory.

Swallowing it down, I force my nerves away and focus on Dan before me. “Do you… still want to…” Fuck, how should I word this? “… top?”

Dan stares at me for a long time without answering. “… No. I don’t.”

I suppress an obvious sigh of relief.

Even so, he pulls me closer. “But,” he starts, making me nervous. “I still want control. I still want to try that. With you.” He licks his lips shyly. “When you’re enjoying it.”

He doesn’t say anything more, but it’s obvious what he’s asking:  _can we do it?_ Even more:  _right now?_

My body gulps nervously, unable to help it. But what else can I do? I’m the one who made this a problem. I’m the one who wants to work things out with him, no matter what it takes. I can’t let myself be selfish anymore. We’re never going to both get exactly what we want, so we have to compromise.

So, I swallow down my nerves and press a kiss to Dan’s lips. “Okay.”

Before I know it, my wrists are in handcuffs chained round the metal bar that the showerhead sits on, held high above my head, and Dan’s mouth is exploring my chest. I’m already sweating, shaking, seemingly spent. I’m already making noises just from these small, subtle touches. He closes his lips round one of my nipples and plays with it with his tongue - the other, he rings with his finger. Both make me flinch and whimper. It’s strange, all these feelings. The atmosphere changes everything. If I wasn’t restrained, I wouldn’t feel so weak and sensitive, vulnerable to Dan’s every little touch.

I watch him, my neck aching from the way I force my head down just to make sure I can watch him. After a while, Dan’s eyes open, catching my stare.

He pulls his mouth away from my skin. “Is this okay?” he asks me softly.

I bite my lip, shyly nodding my head.

At that, Dan shows me a grateful smile. “I always wanted to explore you like this,” he hums, eyeing the rest of my body. “But opportunities have been sparse. Now, though… Now is a good time.” He allows himself a small lick at my belly button, and I keen helplessly in surprise.

This is strange. Very strange. This should feel exactly like every other time that Dan has done this to me, but it doesn’t. I can’t find a reason for it. Right now, I’m not scared of him like I was all those times. I think… I guess…. I must trust him. And it’s okay.

“So,” Dan starts, sitting up again and wrapping his hands round my neck. “What scares you when we’ve done this before? It’s not the restraint, is it?” I timidly shake my head. I suppose it isn’t. “It’s not the proximity, either. Or when I touch you.” He leans closer and lightly kisses my lips. “Then… then what is it?”

I wonder for myself. What is so different this time round? The only real thing I can think of is the terror. Dan likes to cause me terror, and it - rightly so - terrifies me. Any time I’ve been beneath him like this, and I’ve enjoyed it, it hasn’t felt like he’s trying to scare me.

_“Stop,” I try to gasp out, moving my hands up his back and wrapping tightly round his torso. He ignores me though, placing kisses along my sensitive skin, which makes me dig my fingers into his shoulder blade. “Stop it, I’m - ”_

_“Don’t be silly,” he laughs, his mouth still at my throat. “You don’t really want me to stop, do you?”_

_I feel his left hand run over the edge of my boxers, reaching desperately close, so with tears in my eyes I slump against him. “No…”_

I don’t think there is any exact issue to pinpoint here. Honestly, I think it must be a culmination of things.

Shyness feels like it’s burying my voice inside me, so I struggle to bring it out again: “It's… it’s terror,” I tell Dan in a small whisper. “I don’t want to be scared of what you do.”

He cocks his head, understanding. “Okay. I won’t scare you.” He pauses, blinking, considering something. “I guess I shouldn’t talk, either. Not like a Dom.”

_“Just think,” Dan continues, trying to purr seductively into my ear. “Soon, I’ll be inside you for the very first time.” I whine helplessly at the idea. Why does he have to talk right now?_

I nod, agreeing.

Dan slips down my body, trailing light kisses as he goes, and I keep my eyes on him. One of his hands skims down my spine as he goes and I arch it involuntarily - and he kisses my stomach in response. He lets me fall back against the wall as his kisses continue, reaching my nave. As he slides his body away, his hands reach for my knees and push them apart. I whine at the exposure. He pauses for a moment - thinking, I guess - and then he’s kissing my thighs, the sensitive inner skin, holding my legs still for him. My wrists twist in their restraint above my head without meaning to. I can feel my body heating up, like a slow-burning flame, at his every touch.

Dan lifts his head to look at me, and he smiles - a kind smile, not a malicious one. “You like this,” he exclaims excitedly. My face instantly flushes.

Without any moment of pause, he takes me into his hand, stroking me carefully. I cringe and turn my head into my arm, wishing I could hide. It feels like I’m not supposed to like this, like I’m crazy for enjoying it, like it’s shameful. But, at the same time, it’s good that I like it. Because it makes Dan happy that way.

He sits himself up until his face is level with mine again. Without hesitation, he meets our lips, slipping his tongue into my mouth. I instantly feel myself fall, letting him lead. A helpless moan even leaves my mouth. I feel it all taking effect. Dan’s right hand slips round my neck and grips the hairs at the back of my head tightly, keeping me still for him to kiss.

He eventually pulls away, panting for air himself. “It’s okay,” he tells me. “Let me hear you.”

_It’s not like I can’t, now. Your mouth isn’t here to muffle me anymore._

Dan closes his lips on the flesh of my neck and I can’t help but cry out, feeling him work a bite into me. My hips buck upwards helplessly, feeling good, desperate for more.

“Fuck…” Dan cries. I feel him press our hips together and his cock touches mine, just as hard - if not harder - than my own. He takes us both in his hand and we both moan out at the feeling. Both our bodies are trembling.

I don’t believe it - I’m actually going to come from this.

“Do you…” Dan gasps out, definitely nearing the edge. “Do you… really like this?”

My fingers clench around nothing. My mouth hangs open, panting.

“Yes…” I moan, nearing too, trembling. “I do. I like this.”

Dan chuckles breathily. His teeth bite into my collar, and, at that moment, I realise he’s gone over. With his hand quickening, I’m really not far behind.

It’s true. I actually like this. It's… it’s fun.

 


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day, in October 2009, Phil wakes up as the hostage of Daniel Howell - an eighteen-year-old fan that he's been talking to online. Dan has one goal: to have Phil love him back. And he won't stop at anything to get it. And Phil is scared, because he doesn't quite know what Dan wants of him, and at the same time he fears how much Dan can change him.
> 
> A long story from 2009 onwards that explores their actual life story from the perspective of Dan being an obsessive fan. Includes violence and blood, threats of death, kidnapping, restraint, terror, strong language, emotional manipulation, abuse, smut (some non-con, some BDSM)

**WN: strong language, angst, mentions of manipulation/Stockholm Syndrome, mentions of non-con (kiss), vague mentions of knives and blood, brief hints of smut**

Dan uncuffs me and we clean ourselves up quickly after that.

Downstairs, in the kitchen, after dressing ourselves again, I’m exhausted. More so than usual. It must be that same thing that Dan experienced, the first time I really dominated him. Right now, he’s drinking coffee, as we wait for our takeaway to arrive. It’s past dinnertime now and we’re both too lazy to cook.

“Since when do you drink coffee?” I ask him as takes his seat beside me - with me at the head of the table again.

Dan cups the mug with both hands, trying to warm himself up. “Since a few days ago,” he answers. “I’m trying to get used to it, since I’m sure I’m going to need it next month.” He dares a sip and pulls a truly disgusted face. “But I can’t get over this shitty taste.”

I try to hide my amusement. “Does it at least keep you awake?”

“Oh god, yeah. Like a treat.”

We fall into silence after all.

Did we ever have such silences before? I can’t remember. Honestly, I still can’t remember much. It’s mostly all a blur. I only really know two separate times: the start, and Christmas. The good and the bad. The details don’t come to me much. I can’t even be sure if they’re all memories, dreams, or silly inventions I made in my head. The only real way to recapture my memory for certain would be to watch all the tapes, but that would take forever. If things are going to change between me and Dan, and grow happy again, then I don’t even want to remember.

“So…” Dan, awkwardly, starts. “You said you wanted to talk.”

Pause. “I did. On Skype.”

Another pause. “Yeah. What exactly did you want to talk about? There must have been something.”

I think for a while. I don’t come up with anything I feel like telling him.

Still, Dan continues. “Well… What happened whilst I was gone? What made you change your mind and want me back?”

My fingers curl into themselves and I shrink into the chair. “Umm… I… I found your tapes. On my laptop. It was from a camera you’d put in my room.” I dare a glance at him - Dan’s eyes are wide in surprise. He looks worried. “I-I watched some of them. Some from the start, some from later… It took me hours.”

I take in a deep breath.

“You used to cry, every night, while I was sleeping.” I hear Dan gulp. “You used to wrap my arm around you and hold my hand.”

Dan remains silent for a while. He looks away from me, looking sheepish.

“Don’t ask me to confirm it,” he grumbles. “You already know it’s true.”

I accept that. “I just want to know why.”

Dan lets out a light sigh. “Because I was a child, Phil. I had no clue what I was doing with you. All I knew was that I wanted you - I wanted you to want me, too - but I threw us both into a ridiculous situation and I was completely lost. I didn’t know what to do anymore. But I didn’t want to lose you, because, in a way, I finally had you. And it… and it just… it overwhelmed me.” He breathes in slowly. “I know it’s stupid, so you don’t have to tell me.”

Something aches in my chest at those words, and I instantly reach my hands out across the table. Dan stares at them, and then me, frowning in confusion. I display my palms for him invitingly.

“It’s not stupid,” I say in a soft voice, wanting to soothe him. “It touched me. It made me care about you even though I was scared.”

Dan’s face breaks into a bright smile at my words, and he places his hands in mine. I close my fingers round them and squeeze gently.

“So…” he starts, squeezing my hands back. “Are you still scared?”

Silence grows between us for a while. “It’s hard to say,” I decide to go with. Dan obviously slumps a little in disappointment. “I can’t help anxiety, Dan. But I don’t want to be scared anymore. I only want to be happy with you.”

He perks up immediately. “You… you want to be with me?”

I smile. I’ve already made my decision. “I do.” Dan’s face breaks into a huge, shining smile. “But only if you don’t scare me anymore. You can’t try to take things from me just because you want them. We have to talk things out. Okay?” I ask him - I try to sound confident, but inside I’m terrified that he’ll say no. If he does, what could I do? Either put up with it, or break it all off. I don’t want either of those scenarios. “Will you do that?”

For a moment, Dan is silent. Then he squeezes my hands back. “For you, I’ll do anything.”

I relax, relieved.

Our food arrives, so we spend the next hour eating it in front of the TV. There isn’t anything special on - most popular shows are waiting for the New Year’s special, as always. Speaking of which, I don’t know if Dan is planning on staying overnight. I don’t want to spend another New Year’s alone.

“Did you try contacting Peej first?” Dan asks out of blue, taking the plate from my hands. I stare up at him, worried for judgement. “Before me.”

I gulp subtly. “Yeah. I did.” No point in being dishonest - he could check on his cameras. “But it didn’t last long. I sent him away. So we won’t talk anymore.”

Dan hums, intrigued, and sits down next to me. “And why is that? What exactly did you talk about?”

 _Not the sex, if that’s what you’re wondering._ I do wonder, though, how much Dan knows. Peej wouldn’t have told him about Chris, but could he already have known? He did see them together at Chris’s house, didn’t he? He was close enough to know that Peej had told on us. Maybe he overheard something. But no - for Peej’s sake, I won’t take the risk.

“He… he has other friends. I suggested he stay with them. I haven’t exactly been good news for him.”  _Not to mention I’ve brought you down on him, which is the worst part._

Dan stares at me for a while, eyes sharpening in scrutiny. And, then, surprisingly, he grins. “He  _told_ you, didn’t he?”

 _Uh oh_. My face instantly flushes. “Told me what?”

“About Chris!” He falls back into the sofa and lets out a relieved chuckle. “That sneaky bastard!”

My eyes widen. “You  _know_?!”

“Of course! It was obvious!” He’s laughing now. Dan rolls onto his side - he rests his elbow against the back of the sofa and his rest against his hand. “Is that all he told you, though?”

My eyes widen, keeping it playful. “Oh god - what did he tell  _you_?”

Dan grins. “That he likes you.”

The atmosphere dies.

I stare at him, disbelieving.

“You’re joking.”

“Nope. I’m serious.” He doesn’t smile as brightly now - it’s more pitiful, more like he finds this amusing. “Well, I don’t think he likes you as much now, but he used to really like you. It was weird. That’s why I never liked him, you know? I wasn’t just being territorial. I was trying to protect you.”

I sit myself up, feeling incredibly serious. “But… that can’t be true. He’s never been like that with me. Why would he have told you, anyway?”

Dan isn’t smiling at all anymore. He reaches his hand out and holds my for reassurance. “He didn’t tell me. I figured it out. He’s dangerous, Phil. Instead of being honest with you, he tried to pry you away from me with tricks and manipulation. Who knows what he would have done with you had I not stepped in.” He squeezes my hand tightly. “I drugged him and did what I did as a deterrent. I wanted him to decide to stay away from you. I wanted to teach him a lesson.”

I take my hand away from his. “That’s not right. You… You’re lying again, aren’t you?”

He takes my hand again. “I wish I was. At the London Gathering, when I was preoccupied with Chris, you took the drink that was meant for Peej, and you ended up far more out of it than him.”

_Phil stumbles through the crowd, humming some tune to himself, and Peej struggles to keep up with him. He’s quite drunk himself, and his footing isn’t the greatest either right now. But Phil could be a danger to himself at this rate. He isn’t this much of a lightweight, as far as Peej can remember._

_The crowd clears slightly, and Peej finds that Phil has fallen on his face, groaning in pain. He runs to his side and wraps Phil’s arm round his shoulders, pulling him up from the floor. He mumbles a few apologies to the strangers around them and leads Phil through the crowd again._

_“Peej…” he groans. His legs are now dragging uselessly behind them. “I’m gonna vomit soon.”_

_Heart suddenly racing, Peej dashes them straight to the toilets. Luckily finding it empty, he hauls Phil into one of the cubicles and locks the door. Phil drops to the floor and rests his head on the toilet seat, moaning with every breath. He really doesn’t seem okay._

_“What the hell did you drink?” Peej mumbles to himself. Surely they had the same thing. If anything, Peej would say he looked drugged. But how could that be the case?_

Ugh - headache. That’s enough thinking for now.

 _Instead of vomiting, Phil falls limp against the cubicle wall, and his eyes close._ Is he falling asleep? _Peej wonders._ Is that okay? Or should I try keeping him awake?

_He places his hands on both of Phil’s shoulders and shakes him lightly. “Hey. Wake up.”_

_“Oh shush,” Phil grumbles back, frowning. “I’m already awake.”_

Oh,  _Peej rethinks._ Must just make him sleepy then.

_Thinking about it, Peej has never been in a situation like this before. He and Phil never went out much as friends. And, whenever Phil drank, though he always drank more than Peej, he would always get too flirtatious, and Peej would keep him away. Phil has never been half-conscious like this._

_Not thinking about it, Peej’s hand reaches forwards and gently plays through Phil’s hair. His heart thumps in response. Phil even leans his head into the touch._

_“Dan…” he whines like a child. “I’m too sleepy…”_

_He needs to pull back. This is dangerous, for both of them. Peej has Chris now, anyway. He has Chris to make these feelings go away. But, being here now, with such an opportunity, he can’t seem to resist it. Besides - won’t a little satisfaction for his desires help with his recovery?_

_The sounds of people rush into the room, and fall away again once the door closes. Peej can’t hear if anyone is still in here, but so what if they are? No one would look in, anyway._

_He takes a deep breath. Maybe if Phil wasn’t moaning so much, Peej wouldn’t feel the need to do this. He wraps his hand gently round the back of Phil’s head, lifting him up slightly, and carefully presses their lips together. Strangely, Phil replies, sleepily kissing him back. He probably thinks it’s Dan. Peej never kissed anyone before, but he understands the hype. He pulls away, breathing in, and goes for another kiss. This time, Phil’s lips part, and, with his heart thudding nervously against his ribs, Peej tries it. He brings his tongue into play, and the moment that Phil’s touches his, he pulls back right away. He brings a hand to his mouth, feeling strange. His head is pounding with an even worse headache now. He kind of wants to try again, try going further, but Peej decides that he’s going too far. He’s crazy, he’s totally not sober, and a few more drinks might just help him forget._

“I saw you both go in, and I was planning on taking the opportunity to face him, maybe find another way to drug him. Since it was so quiet, I went into the next cubicle and looked in from underneath. You were almost completely out of it, and he took advantage of that - of  _you_.”

I bite on my fingers hard. “That can’t be true.” And yet, my voice wavers in fear. And yet, his words ring bells in my head. It sounds familiar, but I can’t truly recall it.

Dan takes the hand out of my mouth and holds it kindly. “I want to protect you, Phil. I may have hurt you in the past, but I could never take advantage of you like that.” He rests his head on our hands. “I’m just so glad you’re not in contact with him anymore. Now, he can’t hurt you.”

I suddenly feel like crying. This can’t be right. The Peej I’ve known for so long can’t be such a lie. But, then again, there have been clues. He’s always been so desperate to return to my side. He’s always been trying to battle for me with Dan. And what about that time we took him hostage again, with Chris?

_“Prove it,” I tell him. “Prove to me that you won’t tell anyone.”_

_Peej stares at me blankly - truly blankly, like he can’t think of anything. I know that feeling: how are you supposed to know what will prove your devotion?_

_Suddenly, I see the blankness in his eyes overcome with something - an idea, I presume, and he lowers his head, refusing to look at me._

_“Umm, you could…” he struggles out. “I could… could let you kiss me…”_

_My eyebrows raise at that idea. “Why would we do that? Why would I want to kiss you?”_

_At that, Peej’s face flushes a bright embarrassed red. “I-I thought, because you kissed me before…” His voice trails off. He refuses to look at me._

_“Peej, we’ve always been friends. I’ve never actually had feelings for you,” I reassure him. “I kissed you when I was drunk, right? I was confusing you for Dan. I thought I was kissing Dan.”_

_His red face only gets worse._

_I lean down to see him better. “You didn't… you didn’t_  want _me to kiss you, did you?” I ask, startled._

_Peej shoots his head up, alarmed. “N-no! Of course not! I just thought you did!” Then he slumps again._

It all seems to thread together so easily. It really could be true.

My whole life feels like it’s in shambles, like a box of photographs torn apart. I don’t know what’s real anymore. I can’t know what memories are real. I can’t know if what I’ve perceiving now is real. The only constant, however terrifying, that I have… is Dan. I need Dan.

“Please don’t go to London,” I beg him, still trying desperately not to cry. “I need you here, with me.”

Dan pulls up again and looks at me. “I told you - I have to go. There’s no way out of it.”

I slump into the sofa, disappointed.

In our silence, an idea comes to my mind.

“What if… this is only if you’re okay with it, but - ” Dan watches me eagerly. “ - what if I went to live with you? Sure - I’d be alone for most of the day, but at least we’d have each other when you got home.”

His eyes brighten. “That actually sounds like a good idea.” I smile back, relieved. “Are you sure you want to try it, though? A month is a long time. I don’t think we’ve ever lived together for that long.”

“Of course I do,” I shoot back, determined. “I told you: I don’t want to be away from you right now. I want to be with you.”

Dan resettles himself on the sofa, facing me, and takes my head in his hands. “You really want to stay with me?” In his hold, I nod my head. On his face, a smile appears - then he wipes it away with a serious expression. “Then… can you prove it? I want you to prove it.”

I stare at him. “Okay.” I swallow subtly. “What should I do?”

Dan keeps his eyes on me, as takes his hand away from my face and brings it down between us. With it, he pats my right leg gently, stroking his fingers over the inside.

Sex? Is that really all he wants?

“If we’re going to be together,” he tells me softly, “I want our markings to come with us.”

I frown. “Our… markings?”

Dan nods, starting to smile a little.

“Yeah….” His fingers work down the zip of my jeans. “They represent our love, remember?” He slides them down. The tips of his fingers gently trace the lines of my scar. “Hmm… it has really healed, hasn’t it?” His fingers stop. Dan looks back up at me. “As long as we’re together, I want us to keep these markings. Because it shows that we’re willing to sacrifice and suffer to be together. Isn’t it beautiful?” He shows me a smile, trying to get me to smile back. “Last time you said it was sweet.”

“Dan - ”

He puts his hand over my mouth. “Shh, it’s okay. This isn’t to hurt you. I don’t want it to hurt.” He rests his forehead against mine. “I’ll give you every painkiller I have. Just… please… if you really want to be with me, you’ll let me do this.”

As much as I may not like it, the choice is obvious. Actually, the choice doesn’t really exist. I want Dan, so I have to do this.

“Once you’ve finished,” I ask nervously, “you’ll let me stay with you?”

Dan nods his head, smiling. “Of course. I’d want nothing more.”

I force myself to smile. “Then go ahead.”

Dan, in gratitude, places a sweet kiss to my forehead before making his way to the kitchen. He isn’t long - and thank god, because nerves would start to manifest otherwise - and when he returns, he’s holding a small knife in his hand. He places it down on the side and climbs over me again, removing my jeans completely. Once he has slid down onto the floor, Dan gently pushes my knees apart, giving him clear access to my thigh. He runs the pads of his fingers over it softly, to lull me, and I’m grateful.

I can’t lie - I’m a little scared. Not because I worry that Dan will go too far, and hurt me more than I expect, but because of the lingering memories of such a scenario with him. It makes my stomach twist up slightly, even though I can’t remember the exact details. Dan was right - terror is a powerful feeling.

“Once I’m done,” he hums whilst he’s working - my hand is in my mouth, stifling my helpless whines as the inevitable pain shoots through me - “I’ll reward you by sucking you off.”

 _Ugh -_ why does he have to be so generous?

“Don't…” I force out. “… try to make me hard…”

Dan chuckles lightly.

It seems like it hurts more than last time. I wonder if that’s because this is the reopening of an old wound, rather than the creation of a new one. Maybe my flesh is more sensitive and vulnerable right now, because it’s still only healing, rather than the first time it was cut. I wonder, if my flesh was allowed to heal completely, would it be stronger than it was before?

That feels like a metaphor.

I try not to hiss in pain as Dan works through the scar, but it’s difficult. It’s how my body was built: I’m supposed to cry out the instant my flesh is pierced. It’s strange: pain is your body’s way of telling you off and warning you, teaching you not to do whatever you just did, because the effect is damaging - but the feeling never changes whether you’ve asked for it or not. I wish the pain did let up when I’m allowing Dan to do this to me.

That feels like another metaphor.

What does the scar mean again? It’s a symbol, if I remember rightly, more so than just what Dan tells me. Was it Chinese? What did it mean again?

_“It means eternity.” I show him a smile. “Because we’ll be together forever.”_

As I watch him intently, seeing him nearing completion, I decide to ask Dan a question. “Will I have to do yours again, too?”

Dan hums and shakes his head, withdrawing the knife. “No - this time, you won’t have to.” He slips his hands into his joggers and pulls them down, revealing his own scar. My eyes go wide at the sight. “I’m always keen to keep it well maintained,” he says with a smile.

It’s thick. The outline of the symbol on his thigh - it’s way thicker than mine. And some of the lines looks thicker than the rest, like he’s been making mistakes or trying to alter the shape. It doesn’t look healthy. The flesh around it is all a raw red, as well.

I keep my mouth shut. It probably wasn’t done at a good time. Judging from the way Dan looked when we Skyped, this doesn’t look so out-of-place.

Once he yells “Done!” and wipes down both the scar and the knife, I beckon Dan up to me with my hand. Curiously, he crawls up, placing both of his hands on my shoulders as he sits in my lap. I wrap my hands round his neck and pull him into me, pressing our lips together, and I don’t even wait to bring our tongues into play. As I drag it out, Dan already starts whimpering, squeezing my shirt between his fingers. By the time I finally let him go, he’s already hard against my stomach.

“I always wondered,” I pant into his mouth, keeping him close. “How come your sex drive is always so high? You’re always like a virgin to me.”

Dan moves his fingers to my collar and rubs his thumbs into the base of my neck. He’s trying to push closer, trying to kiss me again, so much so that I have to pull him back. “What did you expect?” he pants back. “Being able to finally touch the person I love? That would send anyone’s libido crazy.”

I let that go, returning to the task at hand. “You still think you can suck me off, then? Or should you just ride me instead?”

At those words, Dan lets out a needy whine and grinds himself down on my barely clothed cock - erection, actually. I think that’s a good enough answer.

I wonder - as we kiss again, falling under each other’s spell once more - will we ever fall out of this passion? I always thought that newfound relationships come with a ‘honeymoon phase’, where all you can care about is this new, red-hot passion between the two of you, and then it fades, and you’re left with small displays of affection and domestics. I always feared the honeymoon phase ending. But it doesn’t seem like it ever will, with Dan, at least not anytime soon. He’s been in this phase with me for years, dreaming of us spending nights together over and over again, and then realising them in the real life. This passion of his has lasted so long so far. It just makes me worry that I won’t be able to keep up.

But, for now, as Dan pleads for me to fill him, and I work my lips on his neck until he’s whining, I can’t see myself losing this passion either.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I am heading to university tomorrow, and my life will be chaos for a while, His will be postponed for a short while following this chapter's release (aka the end of this section). A 2k special chapter will be posted on Monday, but after that, I cannot tell you when this hiatus will end. Production is still ongoing - do not worry, this story will not be left unfinished. In the meantime, I am currently participating some phandom events and those fics will be posted within the next couple of months.


	45. Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil, 22. Dan, 18. 2009. An alternate version of Dan and Phil’s story.

**WN: strong language, angst, smut (blurry consent, virgin, restraint, gagging), kidnapping, manipulation/Stockholm Syndrome**

_How did it come to this?_

Dan wonders this endlessly, at night, in the silence of this bedroom. His body is still, unmoving, with only his chest rising and deflating slowly every few seconds. Beside him -  _right_  beside him - is another body, still and unmoving. And Dan is curled up against it, like a pet. Phil’s body is warm, enticingly so, making Dan desperate to be as close to him as possible. Phil’s hands are tucked into his chest, too, so Dan entwines their fingers together, making his heart race. It’s probably this that’s keeping him up. Dan can’t help but smile, though, purring into Phil’s shirt. It’s always nice to be here.

At fifteen years old, Dan used AmazingPhil’s YouTube channel to distract himself from the reality of his family leaving him behind, wherever they had gone. He watched his videos every day, memorising every word, and laughing along with him. Sometimes he wouldn’t move for days, bundled up under a heap of blankets, even through the night. Phil became Dan’s life support, the friendly face, at all times. It wasn’t long before Dan came to love him, unable to take his eyes away from the screen, unable to help the ache in his chest whenever Phil locked eyes on the camera and smiled. At first, Dan knew that none of it was personal, that Phil didn’t even know who he was. But he couldn’t stop himself from dreaming, pretending that Phil really was talking to him, like they were on a video call together.

Come early 2009, Dan started responding to everything he could - his YouTube videos, his tweets, even his Facebook page when he could. And, to Dan’s surprise, Phil started talking back. So what if the replies were small? Phil really knew who he was. Back then, Dan thought he couldn’t be happier. Then they started talking -  _really_  talking, like long-distance friends. They started calling on Skype - video calls, as well! Dan worried his love for Phil would be too obvious, that he wouldn’t be able to hide it, but as soon as he saw Phil chatting away each time he realised he no longer cared. He just wanted to be happy. And Phil made him happy.

Come October, and Dan let slip how much he would love to see Phil’s house in person. He hoped that didn’t sound creepy. He’s just always been very invested in the details of Phil’s life. In response, Phil happily invited him over, and Dan could hardly keep himself composed. The night of the nineteenth, Dan took a train up to Manchester and Phil met him at the station. The rest of that night is mostly a blur - they drank a lot and talked a lot - but Dan was thrilled to wake up in Phil’s bed, cuddled up with him.

Cuddled up together. Hands between them, entwined at the fingers. Handcuffs round Dan’s wrists, and another pair round his and Phil’s.

Phil already knew about Dan’s feelings, long before they met up. He was intrigued - what exactly were these feelings? Were they more love, or obsession?  _Celebrity Worship_ , that’s the proper term for Dan’s condition.  _Fundamental Attribution Error_  - that’s another. Even so, even if this isn’t quite real love, it’s awfully close. Dan’s just a little more sensitive because of it, more susceptible, and far easier to manipulate.

Dan lets out a cry into his cloth gag, stifled as it reaches the air. Behind him, Phil shushes him, mouth curled into a smile against his ear.

“Don’t act like you don’t like this,” he hums with a laugh. One hand is holding Dan’s body against his chest - the other is wrapped round his cock, stroking him quickly, desperate to make him release. As Dan continues to whimper, tears reaching his eyes, Phil dares to press a loving kiss to the boy’s neck. “To think you got hard just from me kissing you. Have you never been kissed before?”

Dan manages to shake his head. His eyes are fixed on the way Phil’s hand works on him. His hips are even pressing as far forward into it as he can make them. His fingers twist helplessly behind his back, cuffed at the wrists - not just because of what Phil’s doing to him, but also because he can touch Phil’s skin like this.

“Tell me,” Phil murmurs into Dan’s ear, as seductively as he can. “Have you ever masturbated while thinking of me?”

Dan bows his head and whines, gently nodding. It makes Phil smile.

It isn’t long before he comes, crying out into his gag and twitching in Phil’s hold. Once he’s done, falling limp against Phil’s body and beginning to pant, Phil presses a loving kiss to Dan’s cheek.

“There you go,” he hums. “Wasn’t that good? Aren’t I good to you?”

Dan turns his head round, sleepily, to catch Phil’s eyes, and he nods eagerly back. Phil grins happily.

“Do you want to thank me?” he suggests. Dan starts talking into his gag, but Phil shushes him. “No no - don’t use words. Words are empty.” His smile widens. He turns Dan around and sits himself on the edge of the bed, guiding Dan’s head by his chin between his legs. “If you’re really grateful, then show me.” Phil leans forwards and slips his fingers around Dan’s gag, pulling it out of his mouth. Curiously, he plays his thumb over Dan’s tongue. “You want to please me, don’t you?” Even with Phil’s thumb in his mouth, Dan gently nods - blushing slightly. Phil grins back, approving. “Don’t worry - I’ll teach you how to do it.”

During down time, Phil treats Dan well. He bathes and dresses him every day (in his own clothes too, which Dan loves), feeds him three meals a day, and brings him any drinks or snacks he asks for. Phil isn’t a monster. He obviously doesn’t want to bring Dan any harm. And Dan isn’t scared of him: in fact, he really likes it here. He’s happy. He’s so happy - this is better than he ever could have dreamed.

Every night, when they both grow tired, Phil curls up next to him and bundles them both up together under the covers. As Winter grows nearer, Dan makes sure to cuddle up right up against Phil’s body, because it’s extra warm. Only when they’re in position does Phil secure the handcuffs - one pair round Dan’s wrists, and another round one of Phil’s and one of Dan’s. This doesn’t scare him, either, because it shows that Phil really wants him to stay here, with him, and that’s the only thing Dan could ever have hoped for.

After two weeks, the moment comes that Dan had (nervously) been expecting, though he wasn’t sure if Phil would ever actually go through with it. After all - he’d only just admitted to Dan that he was a virgin. Doing such a thing, with him, wouldn’t that mean he really meant something to Phil?

“Stop whining,” Phil huffs, sitting between Dan’s legs. Dan lays on his front, wrists chained to the head of the bed, scrunching up the pillow between his fingers and whining into it. Phil’s fingers work inside him, preparing him. “You’re not crying, are you?” Helplessly, as if on cue, Dan’s sniffling starts up again. “Why would you be crying? You want this. Of course you want this. You want it more than I ever could.”

Phil leans forwards and turns Dan’s head to the side, displaying his tears. Dan can barely twist his eyes enough to see him, but, from what he can see, Phil’s putting on a pout.

“You’re the one who’s imagined me touching you countless times,” Phil reminds him. “And got off at the thought of me. You’re the one who’s dreamt of me fucking you. So isn’t this what you want?”

Dan’s face instantly flushes and he turns his head back into the pillow.

There - then - Phil finally understands, and after a sneaky peek at the front of Dan’s body, he lets himself smile. This boy beneath him isn’t scared - he’s excited. So much so that he can’t compose himself.

Phil leans down over Dan’s back and presses a gentle kiss to the back of his neck. It makes a short whine leave Dan’s mouth, stifled by the pillow. “Didn’t you tell me that you’ve always wanted me to be the one to take your virginity?” Phil can’t see it, but Dan’s face blushes at the statement. “Isn’t that still true?” He can’t help but grin. “Admit it: you want me to fuck you.”

Dan’s trembling. But he manages to grip the pillow tightly, and shamefully nods his head.

Phil strokes Dan’s hair and kisses the nape of his neck again as a reward. “Good boy. Remember to always be honest with me.”

Then, once he’s removed his fingers, Phil turns Dan’s body round onto his back, making him stare up at him with wide, red, still teary eyes.

“Should we do it like this?” he suggests, taking Dan’s chin in his hand and smiling. “So you can see me?”

Dan just gulps.

Phil gets himself ready, slipping a condom into place and stroking himself with the excuse of working on some lube. As he does, he admires how Dan watches him so intently, blushing - maybe at the sight, at Phil’s looking at him too, at what they’re about to do - it could be anything. Phil sighs and reaches his left hand to the boy’s face, brushing the hair back from his forehead.

“Why do you keep that pretty voice of yours hidden, hmm?” he moans, pouting. Dan never talks much when Phil has him like this. Neither quite realises that it’s because Phil constantly kept him gagged, except for meal times. Dan has simply been conditioned not to talk when Phil takes him to bed. Regardless, Phil just smiles, positioning himself. “Make sure to let me hear everything, okay?”

As Phil enters him, Dan can’t help but gasp loudly, attempting to bite down on his bottom lip to shut himself up. Phil doesn’t wait or hesitate, desperate to keep going himself - he’s never done this before and it feels too good to slow down now. The cuffs round Dan’s wrists clink continuously like a metronome, complimenting their rhythmic moans. Dan can feel the air around them heating up, and it feels like it’s swelling, like there’s not enough oxygen, and he’ll soon pass out. He’s also painfully hard as Phil fucks him. He can hardly breathe. His fingers tighten round each other, unable to compose himself. He’s going to lose himself in this.

He does start using his voice, for the first time in a while. As Phil quickly grows close, he falls over Dan’s body, huffing against his neck, and Dan can’t help but spout out his name with the last of his energy. He doesn’t say it just the once - his tongue keeps letting it slip, like it knows nothing else, like Phil’s name is the only thing he’ll ever say.

It’s not the first time that Dan comes untouched, not even with Phil. But it most likely won’t be the last, either.

After practically carrying Dan into the shower and back out again, Phil tucks them both into bed, returning the cuffs into their places. But, before he turns the light off, he hesitates - then he reaches for the keys and unlocks the cuffs again, sliding them off of their wrists.

Dan stares up at Phil in amazement, trying not to dare let himself hope too much. Phil simply smiles back and presses a gentle, loving kiss to the top of Dan’s head.

“I trust you now,” he declares, taking Dan’s hand into his hold and squeezing it. Dan’s heart is pounding like mad. “You’re mine now. Okay? Aren’t you happy?”

Dan can’t help but flush a deep red. His arms - now so free - slip round Phil’s middle and hug him tightly.

 _How did it come to this?_ Dan wonders. But he can’t bring himself to care.

 


	46. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Phil, 22; Dan, 18. January 2010. With the start of a new year, and Phil’s birthday, Dan and Phil’s relationship continues to progress - seemingly leaving their dark past behind them. But when Phil learns a secret that Dan has been keeping from him all this time, things take a terrible turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for not posting this sooner - I had posted both chapters 45 and 46 on tumblr without posting them here, because I'd forgotten about this account :/ You'll get both chapters immediately as a kind of compensation.

**WN: strong language, angst, smut (Skype sex, masturbation, fingering)**

January actually passes quite slowly.

We decide to wait until the morning of the first to move into Dan’s place. We sleep through the night - missing the midnight celebrations - and end up watching New Year’s Specials until late afternoon. By the time we get into Dan’s car with all of my clothes packed into the back, I am already tired, so I sleep through most of the journey. I do wonder if I’ll ever truly learn where Dan’s house is.

By the time we reach his house - late morning on the second - Dan is exhausted too, so he sleeps on the sofa whilst I unpack my things into his home. I cook him dinner to wake him up, (and a nice cup of tea, as us Brits do), and from that day I plan to learn to cook a bit better.

On the third, I help Dan film a new video for his channel - something about New Year’s Resolutions - and we even go to the gym to buy him a membership. Of course, I already knew it wasn’t going to last. Even if he wasn’t working full-time for the whole month, Dan wouldn’t go. He’s just not a fitness enthusiast. Besides - I decide to make it my mission to keep him distracted. It’s all I could think of doing to prevent me being bored to death.

When Dan comes home past 6pm on Monday, I immediately take him in my arms and kiss him, like I did when he came to my house last Wednesday.

“Phil,” he whines, trying sleepily to push me away. “I’m too tired.”

“I don’t care.” I kiss his neck. “I’ll treat you, then. You won’t even have to lift a finger.”

So I do. Every day when he comes home. I spend the entirety of the day deciding what I would do next. It’s never much, and it doesn’t last long, but I don’t care. It’s enough for me.

“When did you usually masturbate?” I ask him - nearing the end of the first week. “Was it at night? In the morning?”

Dan’s arm lays over his face and he whines into it. My hand works him slowly, still trying to,  _well_ ,  _wake him up_ , in more than one sense. “Hmm… it differed. I wasn’t always in the mood. Most nights, I was - I couldn’t sleep well, and my mind would always drift to you.” His body tenses momentarily and his mouth lets free an unexpected squeal. So I speed up my movements, trailing kisses over his neck. “And sometimes in the morning, if I’d had a dream about you.”

I chuckle. “How sweet of you.”

Dan whines my name and reaches his hand out to me, so I oblige him, leaning down and catching his lips.

This is how we spend our time together now. Once Dan is spent, I wash him up, dress us both for bed, and curl up with him for another night. He falls asleep almost instantly, now, every time, and I’m not used to that. I feel quite bad for him - the world of work must be pretty hard.

I pass the time when Dan is gone by sleeping in past midday, watching TV, playing videogames, and planning YouTube videos. Although, when I look back, this is probably my most unproductive time. I don’t make a single video - how can I, from his house?

When the first weekend comes around, I plan to treat Dan to a day out in town - maybe to the cinema and a nice restaurant - but he complains that he’s too tired. I can’t blame him - he does have to wake up at six am every morning and commute to London every day on the trains. I honestly couldn’t think of a worse scenario for a job. So, instead of going out, me and Dan stay in bed together, all curled up.

“I don’t like it there,” he whines to me, sniffling. “I don’t want to go back next week.”

“I know,” I soothe him gently, running my fingers through his hair. He’s avoided talking about work until now, so I had guessed it was bad. “Why don’t you just quit, if you hate it that much?”

Dan wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his pyjama jumper. “I can’t - you know I can’t, Phil. I don’t have a choice. If I don’t complete the whole month, I might not go to uni in September. Then what would I do?” He sobs again. “I need this.”

I take a deep breath in and decide to risk it. “Dan, I know you don’t want to hear this, but if you don’t want to work in a law firm right now, are you really going to want to go to uni and study law for the next few years? Are you going to want to work like that for the rest of your life?”

His fingers grab my shirt tightly. “Of course I don’t. But life isn’t all sunshine and roses, Phil. No one gets to love their job. This is the only way I can get a proper career.”

I sigh quietly to myself and drop it - I can’t change Dan’s mind anytime soon, so I have to let him do this. He has to learn this on his own.

_God, I sound like such a parent!_

It’s not like I’m the greatest role model, anyway. What have I done for a career? I’m living off my mum’s money and I make videos sometimes. I have a bloody English degree - what am I going to do with that?!

Hesitantly, nervously, I take a deep breath, and dare to say: “There is such a thing as a YouTube career, you know?”

For a moment, Dan is silent. He raises his head and looks at me, frowning. “A what?”

I dare to continue, knowing I can’t exact turn back now. “Yeah. When people’s channels get really popular, YouTube can pay them for their content, since it’s keeping the website alive. So… if you really wanted… you could always try and achieve that.” I lean down and press a soft kiss to the top of his head. “I know you’d love that.”

But, sadly, he still pushes me away. “Get real, Phil. I’d never be able to get that popular. I barely have any views anyway. If anyone could do that, it’s you.” He rolls away from me in a huff and bundles himself up in the covers without me. “Don’t get my hopes up.”

After another silent hesitation, I reach my hand out to him again and lay it carefully on his head, letting my fingers slip into his hair, and he doesn’t stop me this time.

I sigh. “I’m not getting your hopes up - I’m trying to show you a way out. What could be the harm in trying, hmm?”

Dan says nothing. He must be sulking.

“I wouldn’t be saying this if I thought you weren’t good enough - you know that, don’t you?”

At that, he turns his head back to me, staring wide-eyed and searchingly, as if to hunt out the lie. That’s just the problem though: right now, I don’t think he is. I don’t even think  _I_ could do it, or Peej. But I know that any one of us probably could, if we worked hard at it. So, maybe he could. Maybe we both could.

I smile at the thought. “Could you imagine it? You and me - Dan and Phil -  _YouTubers_. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

Fleetingly, a smile appears on his face. But he forces it away, turning away from me again and knocking my hand back.

“I  _said_ don’t get my hopes up,” he snarls. “I’m getting a real, stable job - I’m going into law. That’s it.”

And, with that, the conversation finally ends. I decide not to argue anymore: once Dan has set his mind on something, God knows he’s set on it.

The next few weeks go by just as slowly.

I realise, to my embarrassment, that we never did anything special for New Year’s: we just slept through it without any thought and waited for Dan’s work experience to come around. I feel horrid at the thought. How wasteful. That was our first ever New Year’s together, and we lost it to time. Thinking about it, how much else has been wasted to time? All those weeks of struggle, of hysteria and torment, and we still ended up here - together. How much anguish have I, personally, directly or indirectly, caused him? How much time did he spend pining after me behind his screen? How many years did he pine after me, hardly knowing what he felt or how to deal with it, with the belief that I was unattainable? How much have I made him suffer - how much of his life have I, unconsciously, stolen?

I’ve decided. I can’t waste any more of his time, especially now when time for him is such turmoil.

In my rush, I decide not to wait and talk this out with him, because that would make my efforts obsolete, so I leave him a note just after he’s left for work one morning and make my way to the train station. It’s a good few hours - a little longer than London to Manchester - and by the time I reach the final station I practically collapse onto the platform.  _Bloody hell_ , _what a journey!_ How has Dan managed that?! I check my phone:  _18:00_. He’ll be getting home soon. Hopefully he won’t freak out that I’m not there before he gets the note. We can skype tonight, anyway - as I promised in the note.

We worked on some videos at the weekends, when Dan wasn’t so tired. He completed his  _New Years Resolution Fail_  video, whilst I edited some old footage from before we came to his house, making  _ZOMG RED PANDA,_ because Dan didn’t want my channel to go without content but he also didn’t want people knowing that I wasn’t at home. For some reason, that surprised me: I would have thought he would love having other fans know that AmazingPhil is hanging out with him - he’s already been mentioned and featured on my channel before, anyway. We post our videos on the same day, in a rush, because he doesn’t have much free time with this full-time work experience and we never want to waste it.

When I get home, I set up my laptop and play some music, whilst I take out a notebook and get writing. I brainstorm, listening to tunes from  _Final Fantasy,_ wondering how I can make this. I can’t do it half-assed - this has to be special. Why else go to all the trouble of coming home?

Hardly an hour goes by before my phone rings in my pocket. I pull it out:  _Dan_.

I answer it.

  
“He-”

“Why the  _hell_ aren’t you here?!” he screams down the phone. No, it’s not quite that - he’s distressed. He sniffles down the line. “Why did go you back home? I thought we were okay! I thought you wanted to stay with me!”

“Hey, calm down, it’s okay,” I try to reassure him. “I left you a note didn’t I?” He hums a yes. “I’m not running away. I just have some things to do, and some stuff to pick up. I promise I’ll come back.”

He lets out a little sob. “But… why can’t you be here  _now_? Why couldn’t you wait ‘til tomorrow? Today was my last day at work. And tomorrow… tomorrow’s your birthday.”

My heart clenches. Perhaps the rush of my plan was really a Catch 22. In trying not lose any more precious time with him, I’m risking taking away another important day together.

“I know…” I sigh, angry with myself. “Of course I know that. And I know you want to spend it together. I’ll be home by morning - I promise.”

He doesn’t say anything for a while.

“Can we Skype?”

I let myself smile. “Of course.”

I set up my laptop and within a few minutes our call has transferred from our phones to our laptop screens. I see Dan’s face in the centre of my view, a little faded because of the night and flooded with a sepia hue. His face and eyes are still a subtle red. Did he really cry because I wasn’t with him?

“Are you okay now?” I gently ask him. He looks away from me and shyly nods his head. Why does he always get so cute?

“Why couldn’t we talk about this?” he mumbles into his covers - Dan has wrapped his duvet over his head and holds it against his chest like a cocoon. “You know what I’m like. Why did you just take off like that without letting us talk about it first? Did you think I wouldn’t let you go?” His voice falters a little on the end, sounding hurt. It rouses in me a heavy guilty weight.

“No, of course not. I don’t think you’re like that.” I let out a tense sigh. “I didn’t want to hurt you - but I get that this has, and I’m stupid. But we couldn’t discuss it because… umm, because…”

I feel my cheeks going red. Dan pricks up like an interested puppy.

“What?” he urges. I can imagine his little wagging tail. “What is it?”

This time, I look away. “Because… I have a surprise for you.” His eyes widen with glee. “I couldn’t exactly tell you that, could I? You’d get all excited and try - ”

“WHAT IS IT?!” Dan yells, which makes me instantly try turning the volume down.

I sigh. “… try to figure it out.” I try to hold down the urge to laugh, and cover my smile with my hand. “No, I’m not going to tell you. That’s why I’m all the way over here. If I was just going to say it, this wouldn’t be worth all the effort I’m putting in.”

Dan’s eyes sparkle - I might even see stars and hearts in there.

“I’m not going to tell you, so stop making that face.”

With that, his face drops to a pout, and his eyes go all puppy-dog on me.  _Ugh_. My heart tugs with his cuteness.

I turn away from the camera, my face turning a bright red.

“Is it…” Dan starts, his voice quiet and shy, “at least… a good surprise?”

Strangely, that inquiry shocks me. I feel offended and hurt by the accusation, but at the same time I know how valid his worry is.

Guilt fills me, and my heart feels heavy in my chest. “Do you worry about that a lot?”

Shyly, and not looking at me, he subtly nods his head.

Against that, I force a smile. “If I was planning on running away, would I have left you a note? Would I have let you know that I’m home? I know you, Dan: this would be a terrible plan.” A little chuckle escapes him. “So of course it’s a good surprise.”

He finally looks at me, showing me a sweet, bright smile, and nothing more is said about that.

We don’t end the call, but we fall into silence, working by ourselves. I let my  _Final Fantasy_ music play on through one earphone - Dan asks me what I’m listening to, so I answer, and he asks if I can play it out loud, so I do, so that fills the silence left by talking’s absence. He asks me what I’m working on, as I scrawl in notebooks, and I tell him a video. He asks what it’s about, but I tell him it’s the surprise, and he bites his lip to contain his curiosities (an excited smile, however, cannot be contained).

An hour passes and we don’t say much to each other - we just enjoy the company. It reminds me of the time before all this, before Dan in person, when we used to Skype like innocent kids. There were no ulterior intentions then, no deceptions or ulterior expectations. There was no hidden, underlying past. Now, our lives are like are palimpsest - back then, they were a fresh, unspoiled blank page. I long for those times. I miss them dearly. It’s like an old Dan, an old familiar favourite fictional character that I want a sequel for.  _This_ Dan, he’s like the alter-ego. In a way. Actually, I suppose, right now he’s like that  _old_ Dan again.

I can hear him shuffling on the other end of the call.  _Making himself comfortable_ , I first think, and nothing more. But it doesn’t stop. It’s a faint sound, so a faint shuffling, but even still I’m acute to it.

I look up. Dan’s biting his lip with a mildly distressed look on his face. He’s not looking at me.

“Hey,” I ask softly. He still doesn’t look at me. “Are you okay there?”

At that, he seems to let out a soft whine. “Well, I… umm… for the last month, every time I got home, you'd… umm… it’s like you’ve conditioned me or something… so… so  _now_ …” His face turns a deep red. “You’re not here…”

 _Oh_.

I can’t help but be amused.

“So you’re horny? That’s what this is?” He whines at me again, though with a different emotion this time - now it’s more of a  _shut up._  “Oh, that’s cute.”

“It’s not  _cute_. I’m eighteen!”

I grin. “You’re still a horny teenager, Dan. You can’t escape that. And, to me, that’s adorable.”

His face turns redder. “Why… why can’t you be here?” he whines, still shuffling his legs beneath him. The sight of him like that warms me up inside. “Now… I have to go…”

My thoughts run a little wild in my head, and, knowing what I’m thinking, I gulp.

“Don’t.” My face heats up. “Stay.”

Dan’s eyes finally catch mine. “What?”

 _Ahh, crap_. “Stay on call. Let me watch.”

His eyes widen, and his cheeks blush even redder. “Umm…” He looks between himself, the camera, and me on his screen. His bottom lip slides between his teeth again. “O-okay.”

I hear my heart thump loudly at that. I’ve thought about it before - I remember that - I wanted to watch him do this. But I never thought it would really happen!

I watch, frozen, throat dry, as Dan timidly moves his laptop back, balancing it on top of his desk chair I suppose, and lays himself against the wall. Face still red, he keeps his eyes away from the screen and shyly brings his hand down between his legs. He’s still wearing joggers, and - hopefully - his underwear, but as he presses his palm against the outside of his clothes I can’t help my breath hitching at the sight. He keeps his eyes down as he moves it, gently, simply to satisfy his growing need, as if without his eyes on me I can’t see what he’s doing. His right hand lifts to his mouth and he presses his teeth into the knuckle of his index finger, and, seeing that, I unconsciously bite my lip.

“ _Mmf_ ,” is the noise he makes into his knuckle, which shamefully affects me quite obviously. Have I ever seen him like this before? It doesn’t feel like it. This feels excitingly new.

His cheeks are red. Is he really embarrassed right now?

“How is it?” The words fall from my mouth out of my control. I’m too curious. My eyes are fixated on the image on the screen.

Dan cringes and grows a little redder. “It's… weird,” he whines. “You can see me.”

I feel amused by that. “That’s the fun, Dan.”

His legs squeeze tighter together, as if to block my view. He must really be embarrassed. How cute.

“Dan,” I call. He hums quietly in response. “I can’t see anything. Won’t you let me see it properly?” He lets out a stubborn, childish whine. I smile. “Go on. Open up. I want to see.”

I watch his face burn redder, and, with his face turned away, he gradually brings his knees apart, exposing himself to the camera. Now, with this view, I can see everything, and I’m immediately fixated. His hand, his tense fingers, the slight erection beneath them, covered by the fabric of his underwear - wait, that’s  _my_  underwear, again!

I let out a laugh, trying to ignore how incredibly perverse we both must be. “I’m surprised at how shy you are. Did you never imagine me watching when you did this by yourself? Not even once?”

Even his ears are turning red. How can he look so cute, in such a predicament?

“I…” Definitely shy, he bites his lip. “I did…”

My eyebrows raise. “You  _did_?” I laugh, surprised. “And you’re still so shy?”

“Well, it’s different when you’re really here!” Dan lets out a sharp, frustrated whine, and drops his head back against the wall. He’s losing his breath now.

Growing hot myself, I lean forwards. “I imagined you’d tackle it with confidence, you know: like you’re showing off, to seduce me.” My lips curl into a grin that I can only relate to my dominating tendencies. Are we really slipping back into this now? “Is that not how you see it?”

I can notice how his hips rock subtly, almost as if he’s trying not to do it, into his hand with need. It’s with that, as his breathing really fails him, with or without him telling me himself, that I realise what he really sees in this.

“But…” he whines - practically moaning now. “But I… can’t control myself… the better it feels.”

 _Ugh._ I’m so screwed.

He finally drops his hand from his mouth and takes a tense fistful of the bedsheets beside him.

“Why… why aren’t you here…?” His hand has stopped now, and, instead, he’s grinding his hips into it. He bites his bottom lip. “I want… want you…”

My breath hitches.

“You want me  _inside_ you?”

Wordless, Dan eagerly nods his head.

Sighing, I fall back into the chair. “Oh, I’m an idiot. I can’t believe I’m missing such an opportunity right now.” As if to emphasise it, Dan whines at me needily.  _Ugh_. I hate him so much. I hate  _myself_ so much. Why on earth must he be so cute, and so hot, at the same time?

My hands reach down and undo the zip of my jeans, and quickly tug them down.

“Alright,” I gasp, anticipating this far too much - when else am I going to get an opportunity like this? “You’ve pretended I was with you before. So do it now.”

Dan stares up at me in shock. “What?”

“You heard me.” I’m already palming myself, unable to hold back. I bite my lip at the contact. “Fuck yourself and pretend it’s me.”

Dan’s face instantly erupts with a blush.

I laugh. “What? Don’t act so shy. We both know you’re going to do it, so let me watch.” A breathy moan escapes me suddenly. “I want to pretend I’m with you, too.”

That seems to do it, because he quickly pulls his clothes off, and, without any preparation, slips a couple of fingers inside himself. We both let out a gasp at that.

“Dan - !” I cry, shocked. “H-how…?”

I don’t get an answer: he’s busy working his fingers within himself, curling them, thrusting them, stretching himself. I’m enamoured with the sight. Surely he can’t naturally be this attractive, fingering himself like this. It’s like he really is trying to seduce me. A satisfied moan escapes me -  _yeah_ , it’s working.

“Phil…” he whines, biting his lip and trembling. “It’s not…  _mmh_.” His face contorts for a brief moment, then relaxes.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah.”

I sigh in relief. “Well, be careful.” I want to mention the fact that he should really be using lube, but for some reason I don’t feel like Dan cares.

_“Wait,” he cries, pushing my hand away. “I want… want to do it myself.”_

_Before I can discuss it with him, Dan quickly reaches his hand under himself and slips a finger inside, letting out a little moan._

_“Dan!” I gasp. He isn’t using any lube. “Doesn’t that hurt?”_

_Dan hesitates before answering. “It’s okay,” he replies with. “I like it.”_

My eyes widen.

“Dan…?” I ask, curious. “Do you…  _really_  like that?”

His face is red. He nods shyly, not meeting my eyes.

At that, my body releases a sudden laugh. “Jesus, Dan. You’re insane.”

He smiles back.

I watch, in astonishment, as he presses another finger inside. His head falls back against the wall and breathy moan escapes his mouth. Then, even more to my surprise, an almost frustrated whine.

“ _Fuck_ , it’s not… not enough.”  _Really, Dan? That’s three fingers. I don’t remember you taking that many before_. He turns his head to the side, eyes widening, presumably spotting something off camera, and then he disappears.

I jump forwards at that.

“Hey!” I yell out. “Where the hell are you going?” You can’t leave me alone like this, Dan! Not when you’ve been putting on such a show for me.

I hear the slide of a drawer - open, then close - and Dan flops face-down onto the bed before me. He’s sideways on, giving me a pleasant view from his head, along his arched back, and up to his hips - there’s where his hand is. My heart skips a beat.  _Oh boy, this is gonna be a spectacle._

Dan’s head is turned to me. His face is burning red. Is he really that turned on? I press my hand into my crotch, my breath hitching. Well, it’s not like I’m any different.

His lips part. My heart tugs.

“Phil,” he whines.  _Ugh_. My hand squeezes.

“Are you…” I gulp, “going to pretend that’s me?”

Dan’s face burns redder. Without taking his eyes - now seeming to haze over - off me, he nods his head, brushing it against the bedsheets. My cheeks heat up. Maybe all that daily routine stuff has affected me, too, because I don’t remember Dan making me feel like this so easily.

Whoops.

I smile. “Okay. Go ahead.”

 


	47. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Phil, 22; Dan, 18. January 2010. With the start of a new year, and Phil’s birthday, Dan and Phil’s relationship continues to progress - seemingly leaving their dark past behind them. But when Phil learns a secret that Dan has been keeping from him all this time, things take a terrible turn.

**WN: strong language, angst, smut (Skype sex, masturbation, penetration, toys, car sex (implied), implicit lowkey non-con))**

Dan - with his hand tight around the toy, and my eyes fixed on the sight - pushes it inside, and a hitched gasp escapes him.

“No lube?” I ask. My heart is trembling at the idea. Could he really do such a thing? Wouldn’t it hurt, at least a little bit? He shuts his eyes and shyly nods, just the once, and my breath catches in my throat. Have I been too gentle for him, then, all this time? I need to step up my game.

As his wrist works it inside him, twisting skilfully, my mouth falls open in awe and my hand reaches under my underwear at last. He really must have done this before. Just from watching him, I can tell he’s used to doing this. It almost looks… autonomous. He’s already panting, quickly getting breathless. His eyes are barely open now, but they’re fixed on me. He moves them from the screen to the camera, directly meeting my eyes, and my whole body shivers because of it.  _Fuck_. It’s almost possessive - that’s the feeling I get. When he isn’t looking at me, it’s like he’s on his own, and I’m just happening to watch. But when he looks at me like that, it’s like he’s owning the fact that I’m there, like all this is for me, and it drives me insane.

“Dan,” I moan through gritted teeth. I can’t keep myself composed when he looks at me like that. “I should have stayed, huh?”

His eyes soften. He lets out a gentle whimper, as if to say “yes”.

“But it’s okay.” I smile. “I like seeing you like this. It’s like I’m watching you from the past, getting off on the thought of me.” A giddy chuckle escapes me. “How cute you must have been.”

He blushes, and his eyes look away.

“Tell me,” I insist. My voice is getting rougher, with my eyes fixed on him doing that. “How many times have you done this?”

Dan bites his lip. His hips are swaying now, pressing back against the toy. “I-I don’t know…” he gasps out. His voice is trembling.

I laugh. “That many?” I work my hand quickly on myself.  _God, what a thought. Dan, a few years younger, unable to help the way he feels towards me, trying to get himself to release._  The thoughts must have been almost intrusive - I can’t imagine him consciously wanting sex with me, but I can very vividly imagine him helpless to the thoughts, knowing only that they make him feel good. What a strange concept - to be the driving force in someone’s sexual awakening. I kind of wish I’d known him then. He would have been cuter, more helpless, and a little less twisted than he was when we really first met. “How old were you, when you first did this? When did you first masturbate to the thought of me?”

His face twists up. His back arches further and he bites into his hand, letting out a heated moan. He pulls his hand away, panting.

“Fifteen.” I flinch. “I was fifteen. It was my first wet dream. After that, the thought wouldn’t leave my head, and I didn’t know what was happening to me. It was like I’d lost control” - he hiccups as his body convulses, leaving him even more breathless - “o-of my body. I guess that was puberty.”

My eyes are wide.

For a moment, I’m breathing. I am in utter awe of this kid.

“I-I guess…” his voice trembles, “… I’ve always been… helplessly under your spell.” He bites into his hand again, letting out a moan, pushing back against his hand. It’s like he’s bewitched by his own body. “I want… to be yours…!” he hums into his hand.

He looks tired. It’s like he’s spacing out. What’s the word… what’s that called…  _subspace_?

He turns those immersed eyes to me.

“Phil…” My body trembles at the pleading sound of his voice. “Please… let me be yours. Keep me. Don't… you ever… let me go.”

My heart tightens. I feel like I’m losing it too, like his subspace is spreading and I’m breathing it in. Being immersed in this scene, with Dan begging so heartfelt for me, I can’t imagine anything else. I can’t imagine him not being with me. I can’t imagine a life for him where I’m not there.

“Stay with me,” my mouth gasps out without my intention. My body feels hot and weak. I’m going to come soon. “I won’t let you leave me. I’ll lock you up if I have to. So don’t you dare… ever…”  _Fuck_ , I’m too close, “feel like that for someone else.”

Dan lets out a desperate cry of my name and I watch his body flinch, tremble, and he releases onto the bedsheets beneath him. I bite my lip as the same sensation overwhelms me, and, hand squeezing, I release too. It’s hotter than anything I remember from before. Masturbation never felt like this.

I never thought of that before, but it just kind of spilled out of me. Do I really feel that badly for him? Do I really not want him to feel like he does for me but for someone else? Can I really possess him like that? Do I really want to?

We both collapse respectively. Dan is panting and gasping into the back of his hand, and I see teeth marks in his flesh. On his cheeks, I see tears. Crying? What for? Was he that overwhelmed?

“It’s okay,” I breathe out, smiling softly. “You should rest now. I’ll be home in the morning.”

He stares at me, fixated. Then he wipes his tears away. “O-okay,” he mumbles.

As I end the call, my worries are extinguished by the soft smile that Dan also bears under his hand. Relief washes through me. So I’ve really made him happy. A gentle warmth swells within me, and I know I’m happy too. After all - I think, reaching my hands to the sketches at my side - that’s what I’m here for: to make Dan happy.

I work on the video all night, finishing up my drawings in Paint, recording the video with a restlessly pounding heart, and editing it all in Movie Maker with trembling fingers. It’s going to be some piece of work. Who knows what changes this could bring? It might just cement us together. If so - if that will really happen - then there’s no going back. This very video is the decision: do I finally decide to stay with Dan forever?

Why not? We’re nothing but happy now. After the things he used to do, he’s changed, and I’m confident he trusting now. His insecurity around me is gone, and, with this video, he’ll finally know there’s nothing to fear. I’m not going anywhere.

 _Yeah_ , I think.  _We’re finally going to make it._

My return train will get me back to Dan by early afternoon - telling him morning was quite the stretch, but I didn’t want to upset him any more by my ill-timed absence. I don’t get much sleep, waking up early after getting into bed way late, but that’s okay - it’s all going to be worth it. This trip, this video… it’ll all be worth the result.

I’m finally going to tell Dan that I love him. Really, truly, I’ll tell the world, I’ll let everyone know that AmazingPhil is with Daniel Howell. He’ll love it. He’ll be so happy with me. And  _that_ will cement us.

Early morning, then. I’m exhausted. Rubbing my eyes, I shuffle down the stairs, craving a drink. I might end up sleeping on the train at this rate, if I can’t wake up. I stumble a little, giggling to myself. It’s like I’m drunk or something. The thought of Dan drugging me again comes to mind, but it quickly passes - he’s not even here, and I haven’t eaten or drank anything all night. Maybe I’m a little ill. Staying up this late, pushing my body to such extremes lately - I wouldn’t be surprised.

I grab a glass, turn on the tap, and hold it under. Just this one drink and maybe I’ll rest for a little longer.

My vision blurs, and then I can’t see.  _Huh? How did that happen?_  I try opening my eyes, but they’re already open.

_Oh, this isn’t good._

Next thing I know, my body is aching and I’m waking up on the floor. I can see, now, if not pretty blurrily, and the gushing of water fills my ears. I look up and see the sink overflowing, the glass smashed by my side.  _Oh god. Not good. Very, very bad._ I push myself up, heart racing and limbs trembling, and bring myself on my hands and knees to the hallway.  _Phone. Mobile is upstairs, so it has to be the home phone_. I bring myself to the living room -  _uh oh, wooziness is returning_ \- and grab the phone off the stand.

I black out again.

Coming to once again, I groan and punch the numbers in, bringing the phone to my ear.  _Ambulance._ This isn’t one of Dan’s drugs, of course it isn’t. They’ve never done this before.

The call picks up.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

My mouth feels dry - I never did get that drink. Even so, my head is swimming.

“Umm…” I struggle. I could black out at any second. “A-ambulance. Please, I-I don’t know what’s wrong. Everything’s blurry and I keep passing out.” I grip the phone tightly as if doing that could help me hold onto consciousness.

The call is transferred to the ambulance service, and I quickly give them my name and address, and before I can say any more I think I click out again.

I wake up the next time in a bright hospital room. My eyesight is still kind of blurry but the dizziness has faded. Maybe they’ve given me something. Still, I’m not quite with it - I can’t tell if we’re moving or not. Maybe I really am still dizzy. Everything’s still kind of shaky. My limbs are strapped down, sleeves pushed up, and I feel needles pushed inside me. There’s quite a few of them. With that, my consciousness wavers more gently than before, and with a doctor’s masked face above me, I fade out again.

_“I-I guess…” his voice trembles, “… I’ve always been… helplessly under your spell.” He bites into his hand again, letting out a moan, pushing back against his hand. It’s like he’s bewitched by his own body. “I want… to be yours…!” he hums into his hand._

I can’t help it. The images flash back to me. It’s like I’m there again. No - it’s like the whole thing was a dream. Maybe that’s right. Why would Dan ever say such things, things that so obviously sound straight out of my unconscious desires? Even so, even if a moment like that wasn’t real, what I wouldn’t give to experience it again. Feeling such loyalty from Dan, the extent of which I had never fully grasped, and feeling such possessiveness back… what a rush.

As I start to come to again, hearing the mumblings of doctors’ voices around me, I worry what Dan’s going to feeling now. As far as he’ll know, I didn’t make it home like I said I would. I won’t answer my phone, I won’t respond to him. He’s going to be so upset. There’s no way he’ll know where I am. Oh god, I’ll have to tell him what happened as soon as I can.

As I stir, I feel someone take my hand, and they start muttering my name. The dizziness has finally gone away, and when I open my eyes the blurriness has gone too. But, when I open them, I must be crazy, because I see Dan.

He smiles at me.

“Thank god you’re okay,” he sighs, relieved. His eyes are red. Has he been crying? This looks like Dan, and sounds like Dan, but how can it be? How could he have found out where I am?

“H-how…” I start. Dan shushes me and squeezes my hand.

“It’s alright. I’m here now, and you’re getting better, so there’s nothing to worry about.” His thumb swipes over the back of my hand. “So relax. Rest a bit more.”

I don’t understand. He can’t be here. My phone was still upstairs - there’s no way the hospital got hold of it and managed to contact Dan. If anything, they would have contacted my family. So how is he here?

I turn my head and search for the time, spotting a digital clock by my bed:  _11:00am_. That’s four hours after I called the ambulance, but two hours before I was expected home. Even if Dan had been expecting me in the morning, he wouldn’t have managed to get himself all the way down here on the hunch that I should have arrived by then, and he certainly shouldn’t have been able to know I was here. So… so how the hell is he here?!

The answer hits me. My blood turns cold in shock. It can’t be, but yes, it must be.

_“I fitted him with a tracker,” Dan confesses. “I’ve been tracking his movements on my phone.”_

I turn my head to him.

“You…” I gasp out. “You’ve been tracking me.”

His smile drops, and in his eyes flashes recognition. My heart drops. I’m right. It’s horrifyingly true.

“Don’t worry about that now,” he dismisses, gripping my hand with both of his. “Just be glad that I’m here.”

I can’t. I’m starting to shake. I thought… I thought all that was over.

“You’re looking pale again.” Dan pouts. He moves to stand himself up. “I’ll go get you some - ”

I grab his hands and yank him down.

“You’ve been tracking me!” I yell. Dan’s eyes are wide. “How could you do that?! I thought you trusted me!”

The fear he was briefly displaying is washed away with anger, and he snaps his hands out of my grip. “Of course I have. This is a precaution: it always has been. I like to know where you are, that you’re not sneaking around without me, that you’re not in any trouble. It turned out useful today, didn’t it?” He forces a smile. “So understand for once.”

I grit my teeth.

“You’re unbelievable.” I’m angry, but I’m shaking - old memories, I suppose. “When did you put it in? How long have you been doing this to me?”

He sighs. It’s like he dealing with an irritating child. “I implanted it the first day we were together, as I worked on installing the locks and the cameras throughout the house.” He says it all so nonchalantly, so dismissively, I get a sickening taste in my mouth. “I don’t get it. Why are you complaining? Why do you always complain? It’s like you’re trying to see the evil in everything I do.”

“That’s - !” I start, but never get to finish.

“It’s like you’re actively trying  _not_ to trust me. You know, I thought we were making progress recently, especially after yesterday. But it seems I was wrong.” He leans in intimidatingly close and I instinctively flinch away. At that, he scoffs. “Exactly as I thought: you don’t trust me.”

A part of me wants to cry out that he’s wrong, that I do trust him, but another, more recent part reminds me of the tracker, hidden somewhere within my body, and I clench my jaw shut. No. He’s right. I can’t trust him.

I scoff. “So, now what? I don’t trust you.” He stiffens as I say that. “And it looks like I never will. If you want me to trust you,” I suggest, “then take it out.”

He’s rigid. But he’s not backing down. “No.”

I glare at him. “Take it out.”

“No. I won’t. I want to be able to know where you are at all times, especially when I don’t think you trust me.”

I grow angrier. “Fine. Then I can’t be with you. If you can’t trust me - if you insist on going against what I want - then I’m leaving. I won’t stay and be a trophy to you.”

Weirdly, a twisted sort of smile warps that rigid look of his. It makes me incredibly uneasy. How did I ever forget he was like this? I can’t know which is the real him.

“Oh, Phil. You’re always quite stupid, aren’t you?” My hands clench into fists. “You can’t just leave me. I’m tracking you: I will always know where you are. If I don’t want to be away from you, then I never will, because I will always come and find you.” My heart drops in horror. No. That’s not fair. “And as you know…” He’s grinning again - proudly. He knows he has me right in his trap. “I don’t ever plan on letting you go.”

I glance around, wondering if anyone is here to see this. But no - we’re alone in this room.

My expression darkens.  _Good_.

_SLAP._

“You  _shithead_!” I yell. Dan sits there, body bent, bringing a hand to his cheek. “Talking like a psycho. Snap out of it! You can’t just keep me locked up - I’m a human being, I have free will. If I don’t want to be with you, then I won’t. That’s  _my_ choice. You cannot control me.”

His fingers, hovering over his cheek, tremble. Then they clench.

Suddenly his hands are grabbing my collar.

“ _I can and I will!_ ” he roars back. He shakes me in his hold, making my head spin, then one hand releases and lands a punch to my stomach - I convulse, spitting, losing all of my breath. That hand grabs my hair and yanks my head up before him. “You still don’t get it yet.  _I own you, Phil_. The cameras, the trackers, handcuffs, rope, drugs -  _everything_. I’ve infiltrated your life and you can’t escape it. I’m in your family. I’m in your channel. And I’m in your head.” He brings our skulls closer and knocks them together, giving me a headache. His eyes are wide and scary - it looks like delirium. There’s none of that sweet Dan I was seeing before. “You can’t run. You can’t hide. You’re stuck with me. I’ve tried to make it easy for you. I’ve tried to make you happy. But this has been going on for so long that I’m far past caring.” His grips tighten and the pain makes my face twist. “If your happiness gets in the way of mine, then I’ll give it up. I may love you, Phil, but nothing is more important in this relationship than  _my_ happiness. I love you to the point where I’ll chain you up and keep you all to myself. This isn’t the self-sacrificing kind.” His face twists into a mad smile. “I’ll make myself happy. I’ll do whatever it takes. Try to stop my happiness and I’ll hurt you more than I ever have before.”

Under the weight of it all, I shrivel. It’s over. There’s nothing I can do.

He takes me back from the hospital to his place, not stopping back at mine to collect my things. It’s not like I say anything - I’m dead silent. I feel like crying. We’re back to square one. It’s like he never really wants me out of there, like he can’t let go of the memory. I wonder what he really wants with me - he’s too contradictory. One time it’s a loving relationship, then it’s this? Once he couldn’t stand my discomfort, then he enjoyed it? All these switches, these looping, repeating switches, are making me lose it. I have no grip on this situation whatever - what a fool I was to think I did. Peej was right: Dan will never see me as anything more than a pet.

He has chained me up, put me on a lead. He’s got chained secured everywhere, just like he said: he’s met my mum, and he’s been on my channel, and he’s developed feelings inside me. And he has precautions everywhere. So, now, all I can do is bow my head and follow him on all fours. I can’t look up and I can’t stand. I’m stuck down here with nowhere to turn.

He has done this so many times. How long does it take me to learn?

As darkness starts to descend, and the sun fades away, in the silence of this car Dan reaches his hand over to me and places it on my thigh. I flinch, and he gently squeezes. A soothing gesture? That can’t be right. He said it himself: he’s given up on my happiness.

I look shyly over to him, keeping my head bowed:

He’s not looking at me - he’s grinning. My heart sinks and I turn my head away, ignoring his wandering hand.

“That tracker,” Dan mumbles, his voice brimming with confidence and his head held high, “is how I’ve been able to trust you leaving the house. Every trip, every event, I only allowed them because I could keep track of you at all times. That test, seeing whether you’d let me leave or come back home for me - how else did you think I’d know what you were choosing? Didn’t you think, had you chosen wrong, I would have brought you straight back?”

I sink further into my chair.

I want to complain that he’s never intended of me having any choice in my fate, all this time, then. I want to tell him that, this way, I’ll never stop wanting to get away. But I know what comments like that will earn me. Now, just from the atmosphere, I can tell there’s a gag been placed on me - I feel it tighten up my throat. I can’t say a word anymore. My voice has been stolen from me.

He scoffs.

“You really are gullible.”

I don’t say a single word. It’s the silence of defeat, and it’s been forced upon me.

It’s a long drive, and I find myself falling asleep. Good - I needed a break from that atmosphere. At least, when I’m asleep, he can’t hurt me, and I don’t have to suffer in his chains. For a brief while, I can relish in freedom, and travel to a time when things weren’t like that. Either that, or I’m plagued with nightmares of more, worse suffering. He was right - he really has infiltrated my mind.

When I wake up, something feels strange, and it takes me a moment to realise that Dan is on my lap, and his mouth is pressed against mine.

I jump up, alarmed, and tried to push him back - but he grabs my wrists and pins them down against the chair. We’re still in the car. It’s pitch black outside, so I can’t tell where we are. At least we’re not moving.

He pulls off me with a taunting grin.

“Ah - don’t do that. What did I tell you?” He presses his nails into my wrists and a pained squeal escapes my mouth. He chuckles at the sound. “Beautiful.” He drops my wrists and brings his hands to my face, cupping my cheeks. He has a strangely twisted sort of adoring look on his face. It’s more menacing than idolising. It’s like, rather than wishing he could just be close to me, he wants to eat me up. It scares me, but more than anything it makes me sad: that sweet Dan is gone again. “It’s six o'clock, you know,” he tells me, grinning. “Almost time for our…  _usual_.”

He brings our mouths together again, kissing me with an obvious lust bleeding through.  _Same old, huh? Is that all you want with me, Dan? You really do never change._ I could try pushing him away again, if I wanted. I could try running away. But we both know that won’t be happening. That tracker… it’s a constant looming reminder that I can’t go anywhere. Whilst I have it - whilst  _he_ has it - it’s like a shock collar. I’m tied to him by it, and there’s no point struggling.

After all this time… this is what it comes to?

After all this time… what should I have expected?

After all, he was playing me all along.

His tongue plays inside my mouth. He pulls back, giggling.

“Come on, you used to like this. I can’t be happy if you don’t at least  _pretend_ to.”

I say nothing. I feel blank, and I don’t want to feel anything else - all of it would just be painful.

He kisses me again and, half-hearted, I move my tongue too.  _Huh. Isn’t it strange, how a simple switch of atmosphere can change so much?_ I don’t enjoy this. I’m not squirming away in horror, either. It feels empty. Is this how we’re going to be now? Is this how I have to live: in monotone?

He smiles against my mouth as his hand ventures down. He presses his palm into my crotch and I tense up, pulling back and clenching my teeth. That doesn’t feel good. It’s not good at all - no, it’s uncomfortable. But I just turn my head away in silent disapproval.

His face drops from a grin to a frown.

“Shit,” he mutters. I look at him: he’s staring down between us. He looks angry.

 _Oh. He didn’t think this through._  Without my happiness, we can’t have sex.

“I could… drug him…” He’s muttering under his breath, almost quieten enough for me not to hear. Should have kept his mouth shut, then. “But I don’t have any…” He lets out a frustrated grunt and takes his hand away.

And then he smiles.

“Well, then, we don’t need that do we?” He takes my right hand in his and brings it round to the back of him. “There’s so much we can do with just our hands.” He lets it go. My hand remains at the hem of his jeans - no, wait, his underwear. He’d certainly been eager. “Go on then.”

I can’t bring my hand to move. There’s a big difference between being passive in this kind of situation and being active. Torture that involves forcing the victim to do something themselves, rather than just inflicting it when they’re helpless, works twofold to break their mind. It’s far easier to accept something in helplessness than instigate it yourself.

Then again, there’s a difference in helplessness, because even now I’m still just as helpless as ever.

I slip my fingers down beneath his underwear and press them inside him, and he gasps. His arms wrap around me and squeeze me tight, his head resting on my shoulder.

“M-move…” he gasps, needy.

Mind blank. Like that, my movements aren’t my own. What’s that word…  _dissociation?_

I comply, movements autonomous and hardly my own. I’ve done this a few times for him now, so I don’t need to think about it.

But…

He always looks so good like this. His moaning, the twisting of his hips, his breathless breaths against my neck, and the way his arms hold onto me so tightly. That hasn’t changed. And, with it all, that emptiness inside me changes, and I start to grow warm. I feel myself going red. He was right, painfully right: he really is in my mind.

He pulls back slightly, his head still resting on my shoulder. I hear him laugh.

“Of course,” he sighs, sounding relieved. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it.” His hand presses into my crotch once again and a gentle moan escapes me. He’s grinning: I can feel it. He raises his head to me and, yes, he’s grinning. “So…” It widens. “We can do it after all.”

He works off my trousers - my old jeans from yesterday - and removes my hand.

“I didn’t even consider this difficulty, to be honest. I was just going to do it with you fast asleep - like the first time.” He chuckles. The cogs are turning in my brain. “Our  _very_ first time.”

 _Oh. Oh no._ Another well-kept secret. All this time… after everything… he must surely think he’s won.

He leans forwards and gives me a gentle, almost loving kiss. “It’s alright - just think of how we used to be.” He wraps one arm around my neck. “Think of the Dan you so wanted to see. That way, you can keep  _this_ up.” He laughs. “After all, I know you really loved him.”

_Yeah. I really did._

 


	48. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Phil, 23; Dan, 18; Peej, 19; Chris, 22. February 2010. With the relationship straining at its limits, they will have to come to a resolution.

**WN: strong language, angst, captive/captor situation, implicit sexual scenes/implicit non-con, smut (consensual, blowjob, handjob), drugging/kidnapping, violence (self-inflicted cutting, blade, blood)**

**AN: slight change in layout - rather than writing any dreams or scenes not from Phil’s POV in italics, only dreams will be written in italics; you’re obviously smart enough to know when it’s Phil’s first-person POV and when it’s not**

Peej doesn’t go back to see Chris for a long time. Dan had been right - after what had been done, he couldn’t bear to face him. What would Chris do, if he found out? Endless, pointless pitying. Maybe, if Peej’s ego isn’t running away with him here, there would be a hint of jealously. Chris had been taking it all so steadily with Peej, with both of them knowing how much Chris really wanted to do - if he found out that someone else had gone there first, what would that do to him? It might just crush him. He might even go distancing himself, if his ‘love’ were actually not much more than lust. Either way, consciously or not, he’d probably think that Peej is weak, and foolish, for such a thing to happen to him. He should have known: don’t visit the house of the person who has tormented you and kept you prisoner; and don’t take a drink from their hand. Unbelievable: after everything that had been done to him, Peej still hadn’t learnt. Well, he has now - he’s never going near Dan and Phil again. Why should he? They’re so happy together, and Peej is happy with Chris. Why should he cross the line anymore and make himself suffer?

So he stays at home. He isolates himself for a while until he could compose himself about what happened, until he could make a decision on how to deal with it - should he tell Chris, or keep it a secret? If things really were to go as far as they could, would he have to confess to him that these weren’t his first times anymore?

 _“You should feel lucky,” he hears Dan’s voice say. Peej is already weak and exhausted - he could pass out again at any moment. He can barely even think enough to comprehend what is happening now. “You’re going to experience a first with me. I couldn’t bring myself to do it to Phil, so I was thinking I needed another way of testing it out - to see if I like it.” He pushes Peej’s legs apart and leans down over his back. “You’ll be my first, doing it_ this _way.”_

He shakes the memory away. No, he’d have to tell him. Keeping a secret like that from Chris could never lead to anything good.

Peej realised, after the first night being alone, that he needed Chris’ comfort again. Isolating himself from the world kept his problems locked outside, yes, but what about those problems in here with him? Those memories… even the fragmented, non-contextualised ones… play on in his mind like an unrelenting bombardment of munitions. During the day, he can’t make himself forget about them, and, during the night, they unleash their real hell, because everything becomes so vivid it’s like he had never really left. He wants so badly to see Chris again, and be held by him again, but the minute he sees him is the minute he has to confess, and he wants to keep Chris from that horror for as long as he can.

But why, he wonders, was he put through such a thing? Why, as much as Dan hates him, would he keep him and do all  _that_  to him for two straight days? And - even though Peej hadn’t known this until the very end - why let him do all those things with Phil? Wasn’t that exactly what he was desperate to keep Peej from doing? Wasn’t just each kiss enough to throw him into a jealous frenzy?

Oh. Maybe there are some answers. The darkness of the room and the blurring of their vision meant that neither of them could have known who the final person was. And, from what Peej can piece together, he and Phil were allowed - no,  _requested_  to do a few things together, and then Dan would intervene, as if cementing his place in the act. No matter what the two of them did together, in the end it would always finish with Dan and Phil. Of all the things done to him, of all the firsts taken, the person he knows now as Phil had never been allowed to sleep with him. And now Peej understands why - because even though Dan could let them do quite a lot, he still had principles to uphold. It was like a strange sort of torture chamber, with everything instigated by the torturer to insight more punishment. Just like those kisses, with every touch Phil and Peej made, Dan would match it after, as if to erase it from both their bodies. And, of course, the greatest reason of them all -  _deterrent._

It takes him a while to gather up the courage, but he finally does it - he picks himself up and takes himself to Chris. Nerves and shame pick at him, sure, but the need for Chris’ comfort overwhelms absolutely. Because Chris  _will_ comfort him - Peej knows that for certain. No matter what else he may think about it, pity and the urge to comfort will override him. And that makes Peej’s heart warm, because he finally knows that he’s found something constant and stable in this guy.

Chris opens the door, and Peej flinches - his nerves are going into overdrive. Chris’ eyes widen and brighten at the sight, and he drags Peej into a tight and secure hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” he cries, squeezing him. “What happened to you? I thought he’d got you again.” He buries his face into Peej’s shoulder. “I was so worried.”

Oh no. Peej hadn’t predicted this.

Under the overwhelming pressure of Chris’s comfort, he presses his face into his chest and tears overcome him.

Chris doesn’t say a word after that until Peej has calmed down. He takes them inside and sits them both down, eventually prying Peej off of him. He fetches him a mug of hot chocolate and leaves it on the table.

“It’s cold out, isn’t it? January’s always pretty cold.” Chris glances over, but Peej’s eyes are kept on the mug. It’s steaming lightly, and he’s cupping it in his hands. Chris lets out a sad sigh. “You’re always so talkative. That is, until something happens with them two.” Phil stiffens, and Chris notices. So he reaches his hand between them and carefully wraps his fingers around Peej’s wrist - and, with that, Peej eyes drift to the hand. “You don’t have to tell me what happened. If you’re not here to tell me, then you’re here for comfort, right?” Peej’s head droops and he nods it shyly. “That’s okay.” Chris smiles. “I feel so special, just from that.” He notices Peej’s face change, so he leans down to see - he’s bearing a small smile. He gently squeezes Peej’s wrist. “Don’t rush yourself, okay? You know you never have to tell me. I’m happy enough that you’re - ”

“No.” Peej puts the mug down on the table and takes Chris’ hand in his. He turns his head to him and shows him his smile. “It’s okay. I want to tell you. I… I have to.”

Chris’ eyes widen and his heart starts to thud inside his chest, but he’s desperate to listen.

***

It’s been a week since I was brought back here. Dan’s house: I wonder what it signifies. It’s never quite a happy place. It’s like a palimpsest - no matter how happy I tried to become, the past could never leave these walls. That punishment with Peej - that was the first thing I ever experienced here. All of Dan’s past, his obsession with me, and the making of his plans to get me - that all happened here too. Whilst I’m here, it’s like the past is never buried - rather, it lives as an overarching reminder of what we really are: captive and captor. Then again, compared to my place, not that much of our time together has happened here. It’s more like… a new chapter. Could it, maybe, be the final one?

At the start, he returned to the handcuffs, keeping me to the bedframe once again. Initially I wondered why: if I escaped, wouldn’t he just come and get me? Then Dan told me why:

“If that was all I cared about, I would never have used them. It’s the effort I want to avoid. Yes, of course I could bring you back, I’d do it every time - but think of how annoying that would be.”

I never said anything, anyway. It wasn’t like I was going anywhere.

To save on the hassle of bringing me up and down the stairs, he hardly left his room. He’d leave me to make meals or fetch us drinks, but any other time he’d stay curled up with me. With this, I quickly grew agitated. I could hardly bring myself to move whilst he was in here, and my body was starting to hate me for it. I wanted to get up and walk around, but Dan wouldn’t let me. I haven’t asked - I haven’t spoken a word since the hospital - I just know that he won’t.

Since he’s not working anymore, his  _usual_  comes after dinner instead of before. He hasn’t turned to me much - if it’s not with me, then he disappears somewhere else for it, or stays with me only because I spur him on a little more when I’m actually here. We’ve only done it together once since the car, and I did the exact same thing as then: lose myself in the image of the Dan from before. It’s not on purpose, but I also don’t regret it. I just can’t help but see it. I wonder, sometimes, in my dreamless sleep, if that’s when he’s deciding to do things. Because of that, I don’t sleep. Sometimes, I feel him kiss me, just like he did on those tapes, so I open my eyes to let him know I’m still awake. He stares back at me without a single expression and eventually closes his eyes. Only one time did he continue further after that - that must have been a recent night. So it turns out, sleep or no sleep, he’ll always get his way.

Only two nights ago did he remove the cuffs.

“I read about this once,” he told me. “It showed me different ways you could shun a person’s free will without violence.” He laid the handcuffs visibly on top of his bedside table - they’ve stayed there ever since. “Keeping someone still, and restricting their movement, locks them in inertia.” He pressed a kiss to my head, then; smiling. “That’s why I’ll trust you not to run now.”

He was right. I haven’t run. Being locked up like that conditioned me not to want to move a single muscle. We eat dinner downstairs now, and watch TV from the sofa in the front room, and he lets me go to the bathroom by myself. He even lets me go downstairs and get a drink whenever I want. Of course, he asks me where I’m going before I do, even when it’s the dead of night and I thought he might be asleep.

“Wanna know where it is?” he giggled one recent night, having had a few drinks. “That nasty tracker, I mean. Aren’t you curious? I thought you might’ve tried looking for it, some day.” He slipped himself down my body, running his hand down my right leg, and laid his fingers over my ankle. “Here.” He smiled, tapping it a couple of times. “Don’t you feel it? Of course you don’t. I’ve been careful.” He fell right to sleep after that.

It’s Saturday now. Exactly a week since my birthday. I figure, what a better night to try?

Four am. He’s usually asleep by now. I stare at him, lying beside me, inspecting his sleeping face. His eyes look relaxed and his breathing is gentle and slow. Carefully, I lean forwards, and press a soft kiss to his cheek. I pull back: nothing. Asleep. Good.

I quietly move myself out of bed - I’m locked between him and the wall, so I have to shuffle myself down to the end of the bed. Looking back, I wait for him to ask me where I’m going. He still doesn’t respond. I’m in luck.

So I press forwards, taking myself to the bathroom. Inside, I push my pyjama bottoms up and inspect my ankle. Could it really be here? I press down harder, and the edge of a finger knocks against something rigid. My heart jumps in my chest. The tracker. I finger it carefully, inspecting it, feeling its shape. Tiny and rectangular. No wonder I never knew it was there. I grab a razor from the cupboard and force out the blade, holding it carefully between my fingers. This is really going to hurt, but what can I do? Leave it, give up, and stay like this forever? No. This will be a small price to pay to escape such a life.

I press it into the flesh of my ankle, piercing the skin, bringing up blood, and biting down on my lip to contain myself. I cut round the outline of the tracker, the nails of my left hand digging painfully into my ankle too, and once the third side is done I squeeze it out, and there it falls, onto the red-spotted bathroom floor. Ah. It’s so small. I can see the wiring, the microscopic green and red, and on the back there’s a tiny little flashing white light. I guess that means it’s on. I take it into my hand and dab it with a tissue to clear the blood. To think, this little thing has been chaining me here. Then again, that’s what I thought of Dan, the first time I realised what he was really doing. I should never underestimate the power of something so small, small as a glass of drink, or a bowl, or a tracker, or a sweet-looking kid.

I clench it tightly inside my fist. I clean and bandage the cut, change my clothes, and creep downstairs. Quietly, keeping my ears pricked for any sound coming from upstairs, I unlock the back door, sneak outside, and drop the tracker down.

I had thought of keeping it with me, at first, after cutting it out. I thought I could find the right opportunity to escape, and drop it then, like if he came to trust me so much he’d take me on a trip, or go shopping without me. But no - none of them would have worked, because he would have had an especially sharp eye on me. It would have taken such a long time to get there, and in that time he would have checked on the tracker, no doubt. No. It had to be now. I won’t spend another minute in that hell with him.

I turn my back on his house, looking straight forwards, and escape through the back gate.

***

_Peej lets out a confused whine into the warm darkness around him. His wrists are squeezed, held by his head, and he looks up: but he can’t see the face. His knees are seized, so he looks down, still unable to see as his legs are pushed apart._

_“Shh,” the voice above hushes him. “You’ll like this. He’s very good at it.”_

_In the darkness, something warm closes round his cock, and his mouth lets free a shocked gasp. He jumps up, overwhelmed, but a hand from above closes over his mouth and pushes him down again._

_“Shhh,” the voice repeats. “Relax.”_

_But he doesn’t want to. It’s too strange. But, even thinking that, his body likes it, and he knows there’s a shame in this his mind isn’t letting him find._

_Their head moves, working up and down, that sweet new warmth rendering his body helpless, and he cries into the hand. His hands twist round and grip tightly onto the things beneath them - one, to the pillow, the other, to a wrist. His wrist is gripped back._

_“You like this, don’t you?” they ask him. The voice is softer than it was before, and that mocking tone is gone. They lean down, bringing their head closer and out of the darkness, and, eyes widening, Peej recognises the face._

He wakes up gradually, half still in the dream, half reaching reality. Strange - he can still feel what he felt in the dream, the weird goodness of it, even now. He realises, a moment later, as his eyes are barely opening, that his hand is pressed between his thighs, lying on his side, and he’s lethargically pressing it into his crotch. A warm buzz washes through him with every touch, and, still in that dreamy haze, he can’t bring himself to stop.

 _It’s strange_ , he thinks to himself, bringing his other hand to his mouth to keep himself quiet.  _I’ve never gotten like this from those nightmares before. This time is different._ He feels breathless.  _What’s different? That face… the face I saw, it was…_

He gasps.

Something stirs behind him, and his eyes widen.

“Peej?” Chris’ voice whispers through the darkness. “What’s wrong?”

_Right. It’s because I’m here!_

He bites down hard, nervous, into his hand. Chris brings himself closer.

“Did you have a bad dream?”

Oh no, his breath is blowing against the back of his neck. A hand is placed gently onto his upper arm, making him flinch.

“You’re sweating. Did you jump awake? It’s okay - it’s only me here, you’ll be okay.”

Chris brings his arm round Peej’s waist, trying to hug him, when his hand brushes against Peej’s lower arm. A confused noise leaves his mouth, and, panicked, Peej snaps that hand into his grip, forcing it away. His breath is racing.  _Fuck. Oh, fuck. I’m in trouble now._

Chris is quiet for a moment. He doesn’t try removing his hand. “Peej?” he asks, sounding sad. Peej squeezes his eyes shut, curses himself, and lets the hand go.

“I-I’m sorry…” he cries.  _Now_ the shame reaches him. “I couldn’t help it. I-I was asleep, and I didn’t know I was…” His face flushes. “You think I’m weird…”

“No I don’t,” Chris whispers back, moving slightly closer. “Of course I don’t. I was nineteen once, too. I was more shocked by your  _lack_  of libido, to be honest.” He lets out a little laugh, and his hand returns to the arm reaching between Peej’s legs. “I don’t mind you doing this. If you want, you can go to the bathroom, but… you know I have to ask…”

Eyes wide, and heart trembling, Peej looks up, and Chris’s face is so close to his own. They both fix their eyes on each other. Chris’s expression is pleading yet with so much restraint. Peej’s heart swells, because he knows that face - it’s the one he saw in his dream.

To Chris’ surprise, Peej turns himself over and presses his face into Chris’ shirt, clutching it tightly in his hands.

“O-okay…” he whines.

Chris’s face flushes too. He’s liked Peej for so long now, had finally managed to tell him three months ago, and now, for the first time, he’s letting him do this. Chris’ heart is racing in his chest. He’s so grateful.

Peej looks up, as Chris’ hand wraps round his waist and brings him closer, with a bright blush on his cheeks. “I… I trust you.” He reaches his head up. “And I like you.” Chris’ heart leaps. “I do - I really like you.”

He pushes up and presses his lips to Chris’, feeling the heat of his blush radiate against his own cheeks.

Chris holds him close, and whispers that he loves him, that he cares so much about him, that he’ll always help him feel safe. And Peej believes him, because he does - in these arms, he feels safe, and he feels loved.

***

How long have I been walking for? I can’t know - my phone is still in Manchester. It’s still dark out, but through the occasional gap in the trees I can see the sky turning pink. Morning is coming. At first, once I was out the gate, I was running, trying to put as much distance between us as possible just in case he came looking anytime soon, but I soon ran out of energy. He doesn’t usually wake up 'til late, anyway, so I can put a good few hours between us. It’ll be hard to find me, even if he knows the area and I don’t, because he doesn’t have that tracker on me anymore. _That tracker… it’s a constant looming reminder that I can’t go anywhere. Whilst I have it - whilst_ he _has it - it’s like a shock collar._ Yeah, but what can he do when it’s gone? I told him, loud and clear: if he comes searching for me, I won’t let him have me. And, without that tracker, there’s nothing he can do about it.

 _God_ , I have no clue where I’m heading. I’m getting tired. The plan is to stay out here, hiding, until Dan stops looking for me. Then I’ll find civilisation again, maybe even ask someone for help if I need it, maybe go to the police. I hadn’t really thought about that until now: telling the police. If I do, my horrors would finally be over. They’d take him over, and god knows how much evidence I can provide them. But then… what would happen, with the parts of me being happy with him? I can say they were lies. I can say they don’t matter, because of his violent, obsessive nature.

Why hadn’t I thought of going to the police before?

Ah, because his plans had worked. By the time I’d had my phone, or had the freedom to go out, I didn’t want to contact them.

Just the thought of his deceptions makes me angry.

I rest myself against a tree and feel my consciousness waver. I really need some sleep. I can make some more headway in a few hours.

A rustling sounds behind me, from a distance. A bird, assumedly. I ignore it.

Suddenly hands wrap round my body and yank me backwards, and I cry out in panic. One of them slaps over my mouth to shut me up - no, it’s fabric,  _oh no!_ This isn’t fair! How the hell… HOW!

His grip on my stomach is tight and I quickly fall limp from the fumes.

“You piece of shit,” he grumbles into my ear. He sounds out of breath, but he lets out a laugh - a laugh that tells me I was never really escaping. “You fell right into it.”

Once again, the defeat of darkness consumes me, and I feel like I’ve finally lost.

 


	49. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil, 23; Dan, 18; February 2010. With the relationship straining at its limits, they will have to come to a resolution.

**WN: strong language, angst, captive/captor situation, violence (knife)**

I wake up without a shirt on, leaning back against the wall on Dan’s bed, with my wrists and ankles tied together in that odd contraption of Dan’s I’d used on him, a month ago. My arms are in front of me, though, rather than behind. There’s a cloth, too, tied round my head, gagging me. My head hangs limp from my neck.

I’m so stupid, to think I could get away from him. No matter what I do, I’ll always end up here.

The door opens.

“Finally awake, are you?”

I keep quiet.

He brings himself over to the bed, above my eyeline, grabs my shoulder and swings me down onto my front.

“You really are an idiot. How many times have I told you that?” He mumbles for me to keep still, and I do, and then I feel something sharp cutting through the skin of my upper back. I hiss into the gag at the pain, my body flinching, but Dan just pushes firmly on my back to remind me to keep still. “You really didn’t suspect a thing? You thought I’d just  _tell_ you where my greatest weapon was? You thought I’d  _really_ just fall fast asleep and let you walk out?” He’s carving something, something I can’t understand from here. My hands clench helplessly beneath me. It hurts so much. “How many times have I tested you, Phil? How many times have you fallen for this, time and time again? Well, now I know: I can’t ever let you out of my sight.”

He digs the knife in sharply and I yelp into my restraint. Tears come to my eyes and I don’t care to hide them: I think they’re more than justified.

Dan leans down over my back. “You think I’d be stupid enough to have just one tracker on you?” My heart drops in realisation. “What if you stumbled across it, and removed it? What if it stopped working? No - I have loads. I won’t tell you where, or how many.” I expect him to laugh in victory, but he doesn’t. His tone is serious. “So now you know - running away from me is never an option.”

It hurts. All of it, it hurts. If I’d thought I felt helpless before, thinking I merely couldn’t leave his house, now I’ve really lost all hope. It’s like a collection of sniper rifles with their lights all pinned on me, at every second, no matter where I go. One wrong move and they shoot me down. I really can’t escape. And it hurts.

I don’t know what he’s carving this time, but he must be truly angry because it’s never hurt like this before. It’s like he’s trying to bring out more pain, trying to make me cry out, and, well, I’m just too weak to stop it.

“Does this feel familiar?” he mocks me. “Maybe not. But it certainly looks familiar to me. Except, you were in  _my_ position.” It clicks: Peej. I did this to Peej. “See what happens when you piss me off? You fall right back down.”

He cuts in sharply against the ridges of my spine and a particularly loud cry escapes my mouth. He lets out an irritated noise.

“Shut up.”

He makes another cut and another whimpering cry escapes.

“Shut up!”

I hear the blade get thrown away, and suddenly his hand is against my face again. That cloth… that smell…! But why?

I fall unconscious, fleetingly grateful for this granted escape from the pain.

The next time I wake, the cuffs are still on, and I’m against the wall again. Except, this time, my clothes have been changed.

My head hurts. I wonder if that chloroform-like stuff can do that to me.

The sound of shuffling fills my ears, so I look around: it’s Dan, on his bedroom floor, packing things into a suitcase. He zips it up tight and puts a lock on it before I can see what’s inside. Then he stands it up, looks over to me - and his eyes change. I can’t tell what they were at first, because it was so fleeting, but now they seem to have hardened up somehow. He’s lost that mocking grin he had before.  _Strange - everything’s gone your way, yet you look like you’ve lost somehow._

“Get up,” he orders. His gaze is as threatening as ever. I let my eyes drop down to the cuffs, chaining my wrists and ankles together, and his follow. “Oh,” he mumbles. “Fine.” Then he reaches forwards - his hands are boiling hot - and undoes them. “We don’t have long. So hurry up and gets your shoes on.”

He passes me my shoes.

I stare at them, not moving. What’s he talking about? What are we hurrying for?

He doesn’t watch me this time, because of the hurry. He heaves the suitcase out into the hallway and disappears, and I hear him stomping down the stairs. I look back at the shoes. We’re going somewhere. But where? He’s never packed this much to go to my place - he always uses my clothes. So what has he packed? A chill runs through me at the thought, but I don’t move. There’s not point freaking myself out about it - it’s not like I can run away.

In silence, I slip my shoes on and sit there, staring blankly at the bedroom door, waiting for him to come back.

“Phil!” he shouts from downstairs. “Get down here.”

So I do. I’m not very fast - inertia has set in - but I eventually get down with him, with my head hanging low. The suitcase is gone. The front door is open. I keep my eyes down.

“Come on.”

He wraps his arm around my shoulders, and I don’t flinch. He guides me outside, towards his car, never letting go. He’s not even gripping me, but I know the kind of hold he has like this - one step out of line and his hand is on me. I guess that’s one downfall of his trackers: he can know where I am, but once I’m running, he has to run too. They’re not a prison, just a deterrent. He opens the passenger-side door and wordlessly I’m commanded inside, so I take my seat. He shuts the door, and child lock pops up. I assume that’s another deterrent, otherwise he’s really undermining me. Though I wouldn’t be surprised by that, either. It’s not like I’ve ever successfully escaped. But I’m not stupid enough to try leaping out of a moving car.

He gets into the driver’s seat and starts driving us somewhere. I keep my eyes down and my fingers move awkwardly between themselves. I want to ask him where we’re going, but, at the same time, I don’t. He’s not in a good mood, so this can’t be good. Unless he’s just covering. But why would he act upset to cover for something? He knows he has me whatever act he pulls, so why pull one at all? No - this can’t be an act. So why, then, is he like this? Why isn’t he cheery, like yesterday? Where are we going?

Dan doesn’t offer any information, either, but I’m not that surprised. He’d only do that to reassure me, and he wouldn’t care to now, would he? Then again, if we’re going someplace bad, why not terrorise me with it? But he’s not in the mood for that - that would have been yesterday’s attitude. So, is this new attitude of his, right now, like mine? Defeated, drained, and mute?

Huh.

We stop earlier than I expected - the journey is only half an hour long. We pass a large sign on our entrance to the car park:  _Heathrow Airport._ My heart jumps in my chest.  _Heathrow? Airport?!_ Where is he taking us?!

“Out,” he orders, without a hint of emotion like usual, as he takes himself out of the car. He grabs the suitcase from the boot, too, as I reluctantly get myself out. He stands there for a moment, his hands full, and drops the suitcase to the ground between us. “Carry it,” he says. I can guess why: carrying something this heavy means I definitely can’t run.  _Dear god, it’s heavy._

We enter the airport - Dan leading, me silently tailing. He looks back every so often to make sure I’m there.  _If you’re so worried_ , I think,  _why don’t you just trust those trackers of yours? It’s not like you’ll mind if we make a scene, right?_ Then again, I don’t want to make a scene either, as much as that could potentially save me. No - I’ve heard Dan’s psychology lessons.  _Diffusion of responsibility_ : the greater number of people around you, the lesser your chance of being saved. I wouldn’t bother, not right now. I’d never want to make a scene, because chances are I’d have to explain it on the channel, and I wouldn’t want this story to live forever.

Baggage in, Dan hands over his tickets for inspection, and I sneak a glance:  _Nagpur, India_. We’re heading to India?!

I glance straight at him, longing for answers, and he looks back. He looks a little shocked to see me, and it takes me a moment to realise why: I’ve haven’t looked him in the eye yet. With that in mind, I glance away.

He guides me over to a seating area, to wait for passport and body inspections, and there we sit, with the bustling of the airport happening around us, in awkward utter silence.

Dan lets out a long, heavy sigh.

“I’d had this holiday planned for us for a while now.” I prick up slightly as he talks, because his tone is sad and honest, and I haven’t heard it do that for a while. It’s rawer and purer than usual. “But I never got the chance to tell you because I didn’t think you were fully trusting me yet. I couldn’t be sure you’d come with me.” He crosses his legs on the chair and holds them close with his hands gripping tightly round his ankles. “I wondered how you’d like to finally get away from those prison-like places.”

I really prick up at that. Why is he talking like that? Like he's…  _sad_  that I’ve felt imprisoned.

“But  _now_ , ” he goes on, lifting his head up high. “Now it’s different. You can’t be trusted, because you kept trying to deceive me in order to get some freedom. You keep wanting to escape, and I won’t have that.” I droop at those words. Yeah, of course - he hasn’t changed. “So once we’re in India, I can trust that you won’t try to run, because where would you go? You won’t even know the emergency phone lines.” With that, he lets out his mocking, signature scoff. “We’ll have that holiday after all. It’ll be like… a honeymoon.”

I want to scoff at that word.  _Honeymoon_. What a word to come out of his mouth. What a self-deception.  _Honeymoon?_ We’re not in love. We’re captive and captor - and that’s all we’ll ever be. It’s not a honeymoon - it’s a new prison. We both know that.

I realise: he’s stopped trying to trick me. He always picks and choses what to tell me, what to show me, but that’s always been to deceive me somewhere, even if to simply lay a trap for me to fall in. He only does that when we’ve progressed somehow, and we have somewhere to fall. But, right now, he’s speaking his mind, no filters. So what does that tell me?

We’ve reached rock bottom.

I already knew that, though. That’s not a surprise. Yet why do I feel so sad about it?

Dan says he wants to go to the toilet, after a while, and it takes me a moment to realise he’s ordering me to go with him. So I follow him, head down, not saying a word, as he walks us into the bathroom and leaves me standing outside. He asks me to stand right against the door, so he can see that I don’t move, so I do. I cover my ears because the empty silence of this room plus the proximity of me to the toilet wouldn’t lead to anything good.

Suddenly the door swings open from behind me and I stumble backwards, heart racing as I fall into the cubicle.  _Crap, I might bang my head open!_

I’m caught, just about, and a foot from behind me kicks the door shut again.

“Shh,” Dan whispers. He doesn’t close his hand over my mouth, though. Even so, I keep quiet, despite my heart still pounding. Did he intend for that to happen, or was it just a mistake? “I didn’t think you’d fall in. Sorry.”

My heart jumps in my chest.  _Sorry?_ He just  _apologised_ to me?

His hand wraps round my chest and hugs me against him, and I hold my breath at the intimacy.

“Your wrists…” he mumbles - his breath hits the side of my neck and I flinch at the feeling. If I dare turn my head I’ll know his face is close. His chin hits my shoulder and rests there, as he reaches for my hand. “They’re red.” Ah, from the cuffs? Looking now, I see how bad they look: deep red, even swollen. They look more painful than they feel. Had they ever been marked this badly from Dan’s restraints? Well, these had never been used on me before.

Without another word, in the silence of the toilets, he pulls down my sleeve, rolls my wrist over to face him, and starts wrapping bandages from his bag round it. He’s slow and gentle, and I feel awkward sitting here watching him do this: he’s taking  _care_ of me, as menial as this is. Maybe it’s just to cover up my wounds from any onlooking eyes, but the way he’s tackling this is so… so careful. I feel like squirming because of it, but refrain. Once done with the first hand, he gently moves onto the next. I feel his heartbeat against my skin, his chest pressed against my back - I try to ignore it, because I’ve felt his heartbeat numerous times by now and I recognise how subtly it has quickened with me here.

I forget, with everything that’s happened, with how cruel Dan can be, that his motive isn’t malice - it’s love. Love, in some strange, desperate, twisted form.

“Are these okay?” his voice hums softly by my neck. I swallow subtly and don’t answer. Sometimes I can feel when he doesn’t want an answer, when we’re not on equal footing, and his questions are rhetorical taunts, but this time I can feel how he really does want me to answer, and yet, I still can’t bring myself to do it: we’re not on equal footing, so of course I can’t. This isn’t a mutual, loving scene. With that, he quietly sighs, and asks nothing more about it.

Instead, he leans back, dropping my hands and lifting up the back of my shirt. My breath catches at that. I’m blind from this angle, so when Dan’s fingers appear on my skin I flinch and a chill runs down my spine. Too vulnerable. Too gentle.

“Does this hurt?” he asks. His fingers are skimming scabs - the carving from before, whenever that was. As his fingers trace a pattern of fine, shaped lines, I realise it’s another word. Again, I don’t answer. He shouldn’t have a reason to care. “Does it hurt?” he persists. I shake my head. After a still, hesitant moment, Dan drops my shirt back down.

He pushes me up slightly, slips out from under me, and next thing I know I’m sitting on the seat with Dan kneeling before me. His eyes leave mine and his hands reach for one of my ankles, lifting up the trouser leg and inspecting it. Then, without a word, he takes up the bandages again and wraps them up too. The bandages are strong and stretchy - I can feel that much - and I am grateful for them, even if they’re only to hide my scars from the public. I think of any others I might have that could show: that carving on my back, if it bleeds, right? What about… what about…

What else is there? My mind draws a blank. I think I’m tired. There were so many things I never wanted to let myself forget. It’s like remnants are there, the lessons I’ve taken away - like Dan’s cruelty, and his love - but the details are gone. Is that my mind’s coping strategy, making me forget those things? Does that lessen the pain?

He’s done wrapping. But he isn’t moving. His hand and gaze are fixated on my bandaged ankle. His fingers, laying on the bandages, aren’t moving. Silent, confused, I stare down at him. His eyes slowly move up, expression fixed but unreadable, and his fingers follow - no, reverse - his eyes are following his fingers as they gently stroke up my leg, from the ankle to the knee. His fingers stop, his gaze fixes - no, continues, and as I do it too, I see him gulp.

His fingers tighten on my knee.

“I want…” he says, whispering. My heart falls in dread. Dan’s cheeks flush pink - they haven’t done that for a while.

He’s silent for a long time, never moving, not even his eyes. I think he’s deliberating within his own head.

Then, he sighs, and stands himself up.

“Come on.” He takes up his bag, flushes the toilet - the lid was down, thank god - and leaves the cubicle. And, slightly dazed, I follow.

The silence continues all the way through to India. It’s like a bubble, unpoppable, invisible, intangible, around us, between us, and through us. We’re tied together by it and held apart at the same time, like a line never to be crossed. I can feel the immovability between us, of us. We’ve reached our true impasse - I can feel it. Dan may have been victorious, but he isn’t happy. Something is limiting him - limiting his happiness. And, after that scene in the bathroom, I think I just figured it out:

This isn’t how he wants me. Sure, I’m secure, and I can’t ever leave him. But that means some of his desires cannot be fulfilled. Ever since he was young, Dan wanted to be close to me. He wanted us to be friends, to have sleepovers together, to cuddle and comfort each other. He wants to be in love with me, and wants me to love him back. Sex is only a brief, instinctive desire in that grand scheme of things. But when our relationship isn’t  _love_ but  _captivity_ , those things can’t happen. He can’t have my love. He can’t express his own. We can’t cuddle, and comfort each other, and smile together. He can’t hold my hand and have me hold his.

So now I wonder; has he finally figured this out? Has he finally figured out what he wants? how badly this has gone? Will he think about what to do now, to come to a resolution, or will he drag this through by its hair, to the bitter end?

After all, this has never been my decision: in the end, it falls to him.

He takes my hand in his on the plane. He doesn’t look over at me as he does it, or after, to look for my reaction. He doesn’t wait for my response. His hand squeezes mine tightly, then loosens, but he never lets go - not until we have to leave. I don’t take my hand away because I’m in no position to, but I don’t reciprocate because I’m in no position to. Dan’s face is blank, and for the first time I feel like maybe there isn’t anything happening behind it: maybe he’s not thinking anything at all; maybe he doesn’t know what to deliberate anymore.

This gesture, this simple final precaution to make sure I stay close: he really can’t feel satisfied. It’s like he worries he’s too dumb or I’m too smart to be sure he’s got me trapped. Paranoia - that’s his problem. He can’t escape the anxiety that the slightest loosening of his grip could have me disappear. That’s our limitation, the anchor that wraps round us and chains us down. Down here, his unrelenting paranoia hardens the anchor, and the strains of our relationship cause it to flood and surround us. If he doesn’t fix it, we’ll never find a resolution. And who knows, in that eventuality, what will become of us.

I want to tell him that, but, at the same time, I don’t. I can’t find my voice anymore, and I wouldn’t bring it back with all the effort it would take me just to risk punishment. No - this is a problem he’ll have to realise and solve on his own.

I tail behind him with my invisible lead all the way to the hotel, where he unpacks our stuff and flops down onto the bed, arms outstretched, and heaves a great satisfied sigh.

“Ahh. Holiday at last. Aaaand” - he heaves himself up and wraps his arms around my waist, suddenly pulling me into him - “with my favourite person!”

He has a huge smile on his face, and he’s beaming again. He’s changed again, but this is new: there’s no malice or mocking in his tone; rather, he’s happy.

He drags me onto the bed with him and squeezes me, letting out a happy noise, and keeps us there. After a while he rolls us over and lays himself on my belly, and nuzzles his face into my chest.

“Let's… stay like this. For a little while.”

So we do. I lift my head slightly and stare down at him, resting himself with closed eyes on my front. His arms are still hugging me close, as if relaxing them would mean letting me go. He… looks like that cute teenager again, yearning for my affection, yearning for sleepovers and friendship. Gone is the malice and lust and desperate desire to ensnare me. No, not gone:  _masked_. This is a mask, but, this time, I fear it isn’t for me. Why act like this when I already know my entrapment? No, this isn’t for me - it’s for him.

He won’t let this go.

It’s already late. Dan goes for a shower and I get myself into bed. How long are we here for? I don’t know. Could be two days, could be a month, though I doubt he’d have that much money. Here we are, on holiday, at the strained yet barricaded edge of my prison. If he won’t let me go, I better get used to this sort of life.

I’ve fallen asleep before he gets back, and I’m grateful for that. My thoughts can be postponed.


	50. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil, 23; Dan, 18; Peej, 19; Chris, 22. February 2010. With the relationship straining at its limits, they will have to come to a resolution.

**WN: strong language, angst, smut (dream/implied somnophilia, blowjob), captor/captive situation**

_“Well, what about secondary school?”_

_Dan is curious. He’s sitting, legs crossed, at the end of my bed, facing me, looking down at a framed photo of me in primary school laying in his hands. He looks younger and sweeter than usual - maybe around sixteen? I don’t remember how I came to know him so young, but I dismiss the question._

_Pulling a face of mock deep thought, I say: “Yeah, no. I never had friends then either.”_

_Dan’s eyes were wide at first, but now they grow sad. “I can’t believe that! You’re such an interesting person - you’re so kind and sweet too! - how did everyone miss that?”_

_I shrug, dismissing the topic. “I don’t know. Kids are like that, you know.”_

_Dan slumps, looking at nothing in particular. “Yeah.”_

_I watch him for a moment. Then I crawl over to him over the bed and put my face up to his until he looks at me, pulling back a little._

_“… What?”_

_“I didn’t mean to make you sad. You don’t have to worry about all that - I don’t care about it anymore.” I lean in closer and smile brightly, meaning it all. “Because now I have you.” Dan’s face lights up at that. “And you’re more than enough for me.”_

_He doesn’t know it, but he’s blushing, and I notice. “Same here,” he shyly mumbles back, keeping his eyes locked on mine. “I never had a friend until you.”_

_I remember. Being home-schooled must have meant he really didn’t have friends. With that in mind, I grin. “So that’s why you became so obsessed with me?” I ask. I meant to tease him slightly, but he doesn’t deny it. In fact, I wonder if that really is true. “You know I don’t hate you for that, right?” His eyes flash with something like recognition, or fear. “I don’t think you’re weird, either. You don’t creep me out.” Ah, that’s right: there was no kidnapping, or violence, not with this Dan. I smile warmly with him. “You just wanted to be friends with me - how could that be bad?”_

_Blushing still, he smiles lightly back. “You’re too nice, Phil. I don’t deserve you.”_

_“Who says that?” I shoot back, settling myself down in front of him. “What’s to say you’re supposed to_ deserve  _your friends? Don’t they just happen? Aren’t they just people you’re happy in the company with?” I let out a laugh, and slowly Dan manages to return from leaning away from me. “You don’t pass some test to gain friendship - it just comes about. Like… romance.” My smile slants slightly, confident. “Friendship grows unexpectedly, like love, without us striving desperately towards it. Friendship is mutual and balanced by nature.” Unconsciously, I reach my hand forwards and take the photo out of Dan’s hands, replacing it with my hand, and I give his a reassuring squeeze. “I came to like you naturally, and I came to love your company. Just because you’re a little anxious and insecure sometimes doesn’t mean my feelings will falter. So shut up and accept me, will you?”_

_He lets out a sudden, unexpected laugh, and as his hand comes up to cover his mouth, to stop any more, his face grows redder. It’s cute. He’s young and sweet and behaviour like this makes him cute._

_“How cute,” my voice spills without me thinking; even so, I don’t retract it. It makes him grow even shyer._

_Then, after a moment of silence, he looks up at me - face still just as red - and, in a quick movement, his hand is on my collar and his lips are on mine._

_My eyes keep wide open with the kiss. He’s never kissed me before. Even so, I don’t push him back, or pull away. This isn’t weird: actually, it feels natural. We’re friends, so our feelings for each are strong and interlinked, I guess much like romance._

_He pulls himself back, his own eyes very wide. “Sorry,” he gasps out, looking far more sheepish than before. “I… you just…” He gulps. “I couldn’t help it.”_

_I feel a surprised laugh try and escape me, releasing as a scoff. “That’s alright,” I, without thinking, say back. My hand slips round his waist and he flinches at the touch. “It’s cute.”_

_I lean forwards and catch his lips. Immediately, he feels weak and fragile in my hold, so instinctively my motions are careful with him. Gradually, his hand loosens from my collar and reaches round the back of my neck, pulling me closer. How cute: he’s trying to gain some control. But not only that, his acceptance and submission to these desires are cute too, and I feel honoured to be a part of it._

_“I-I’ve never…” he hums against my lips, “liked you in this way, not before. This isn’t why I… why I obsessed over you.”_

_I find myself smiling against his lips. “I don’t care - you don’t have to excuse yourself to me. You can like me however you want.”_

_Quickly, it grows heated, and our clothes are coming off. The whole room feels hot now, like a set of pheromones has been released into it, and we become helpless to it. Still, as Dan’s body reacts in that cute, new way it would at sixteen, none of this feels weird, like we’re overstepping a boundary; rather, it still feels natural, like an extension to our previous, cemented feelings. We fall together onto the bed and Dan pants above me, arms either side of me, looking down._

_“I want…” he gasps. “I want to try something.”_

_I raise an eyebrow. “Oh?”_

_He nods. “Something to please you.”_

_I find myself smiling, revelling in my shameless, wandering mind. “Sure you can last?”_

_Dan blushes, but, through it, determination and desperate driving desire bleeds strongly through. He climbs down my body, leans his head down to my clothed crotch, parts his lips, and presses his warm mouth against my growing erection. I moan softly, closed-mouth, from the warmth, but keep my eyes on him. How could I look away? Such a young, innocent face, desperate and determined to please me, and I’m_ not  _supposed to look? Face red, eyes softened and focused down, Dan presses his tongue against the fabric and I keen lightly, thighs twitching. Then, gently, he suckles, and with each pleasured noise I make something twitches in his face. I really don’t think he can last._

_He pulls down my boxers, hesitates, and takes me into his mouth. A surprised gasping groan escapes me and, back arching, my head falls down against the mattress._

_“Oh, Dan…” I breathe out. My fingers clench round handfuls of the duvet. “You’re so… good…”_

“I’ve never done this before. I want to be good for you.”

_The memory - the thought of a thought currently racing through his mind - makes me feel breathless._

“Just you wanting to do it is more than good enough for me.”

_My spine arches a little more and, hips bucking slightly, my mouth falls open._ Cute _. That’s the only word that comes to mind, and even I know how misplaced it is, how little it really captures this moment. This shouldn’t really be cute - it should feel devilish and rebellious - but when I look at Dan and see how he tackles this, how he’s desperate to pleasure me with such limited skill at his youthful age, nothing adult or gross comes to mind. Such desire of his is cute: I can’t help but see it that way._

My consciousness flickers. The room appears to have darkened, or at least my eyes have, but Dan is still between my legs. I raise my head, but, with darkness and tired eyes, I see nothing. Head dropping, I reach my hand down and thread my fingers through his hair. He flinches, stops, then continues, and the good feelings from his warm, timid mouth go on. My tired eyes flicker closed again and I see nothing but feel all the more. It’s sweet, and it’s cute, and my hand in his hair makes him fall slightly weaker in my hold. I never vocalise how good it feels, or how close I am, but I want to.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, he pushes down far, focusing on the length of me, and I gasp when I realise how far he has taken me. How deep is that? He pulls back, then returns, over and over, and I realise how good he really is at this: it’s like he’s a natural, or, at the very least, he’s been practising just for me. Now  _that_ is cute.

A breath in the shape of his name, coherent or not, slips from my breathless lips, and I feel him flinch because of it - perhaps he heard it? My fingers tighten, not very much due to the tiredness, and weakly I come, body twitching, mouth spewing tired moans. And, as I fall onto the bed, worn out, a wave of tiredness envelops me and I fade once more.

“Morning! Good morning, sunshine!”

I’m shaken awake by excited hands. The voice is giddy, like a child, and hardly recognisable. I eventually blink awake to be met by Dan, face right up close to mine, grinning widely, eyes bright and, well, childlike. Upon seeing me wake up, his eyes lighten up, and after pressing a sweet kiss to my head he pushes himself away and, apparently,  _finishes_  getting dressed.

“You should have a shower today,” he says, muffled by the shirt being pulled over his head, “since you didn’t yesterday. Then we can head to breakfast - oh, but take your time! I won’t rush you on our holiday.” Shirt finally tugged down, he flashes me an energetic smile and disappears through the window. “I’ll be on the balcony, enjoying the lovely view!”

Eventually, I sit myself up.  _What is he doing?_ I wonder.  _What’s going on now? A holiday, really, in this state?_ Even as I think that, I know there’s no point questioning it: there’s nothing I can do to change it even if I  _did_ understand, so why bother? Dan’s motives and antics are strange - I know that well enough by now - and no matter what I am trapped inside them like a merry-go-round.

A bit reluctantly, unmotivated and torpid, I bring myself to the bathroom, lock the door, and take a long shower. Mostly, I don’t move, not bothering to wash myself. My eyes stare at the cold porcelain wall as the shower’s rain falls down on my back.  _Keep your back to the stream_ , I used to think _, and face the door, just in case someone comes in, ready to attack._ What thoughts I used to have. Protect myself? From an upfront attacker? I’d never have the luck.  _Luck_. Maybe this is all a big case of bad luck. Maybe, after all, Dan isn’t that clever, and I’m not that weak and useless. Maybe he’s just lucky. Well, maybe his luck may run out, and I’ll get free: somehow. The water is getting cold on my back - I hadn’t cared about the temperature. It’s a soothing sensation. It’s been a while since I’ve showered normally: alone.  _Ha. Normally._ Now, what a distant dream.

Holiday? No. This isn’t a holiday: it’s a honeymoon. It’s a construct of our relationship, to try and force us into its mould again.

The door opens.

“Don’t lock doors on me, Phil,” Dan giggles, waving something small and thin in his hand. I’m not surprised. “I know I said not to rush, but you really are taking your time - it got me worried.” He picks up my towel from the floor, opens it out, and holds it, arms outstretched wide as if asking for a hug. “Come on - breakfast will close up soon.”

Blankly, I comply, turning the shower off, opening the door, and stepping out into his arms. He wraps the towel around me almost lovingly and gently dries me off. Not a word passes between us in that minute, as I bet few words would fit. He’d speak only to tease me, scare me, or simply express something to me: none of which he should bother with. I’d only speak to comply or object: neither of which I feel like exerting myself with. This shouldn’t be ‘play-along’ time, and yet I feel like it is, like we’re not just captive and captor but forced into a roleplay of happy couple again. But, even if that’s what he wants, I’m still just his captive either way, and neither objecting nor playing along is going to change things. Right now, playing happy couple, who are we supposed to be kidding? Because, unlike before, it isn’t me.

Breakfast is a buffet served in a large restaurant-like food court. I’ve had resort holidays before, so I’m used to this. Dan sits us down at a two-table, facing each other, and we go up together to get our food and drink. I don’t get much, and I don’t eat much of it either. Dan, on the other hand, well he stuffs his face, bearing a great big grin. He’s really enjoying himself. Making the most of the moment, I suppose?

“Hey,” he mumbles with his mouth half-full, tapping my plate with his spoon. “You’re not appreciating this! They’ve got so much stuff - go try some!”

I don’t move. I ring my finger round the half-sharp tips of the fork on my napkin.

“Phil.” I look up. He’s frowning ever so slightly. “Breakfast. This is a holiday.”

I drop my gaze to the fork again. Dan lets out an irritated sigh. He goes to open his mouth, but I beat him to it:

“You touched me in my sleep again.”

He goes rigid. For a moment, he’s silent, maybe taken back. “Of course,” he answers, not sounding half as confident as usual. “I said I would, didn’t I? If I can’t touch you when you’re awake… when else could I?”

Like usual, his logic bothers me.

“Not again,” I demand. I try to keep myself calm by focusing on the fragile tip of my finger on the fingers of the fork.

Dan forces out a scoff. “You’re not in a place to threaten me, Phil,” he says with a laugh.

I feel my mouth twitch.

“And you’re in no place to coerce me,” I retort, “physically or otherwise.”

I notice Dan’s fingers tighten tensely round the cutlery in his hands. He doesn’t say a word. After a while, he stands himself up, leaves his cutlery behind, and wanders back to the buffet. I let myself relax with a heavy sigh, letting my brief tensions out, and I move my fingers to the curve in the fork’s head.

Dan returns.

“Pancakes!” he cries like an excited child as he brings a large plate of tiny pancakes to our table. “What do you know? They do pancakes here! For breakfast! How indulgent!” Without waiting for me, he grabs the cutlery from my napkin - from under my hand - and lifts a couple of pancakes from that plate onto mine. “You’ll want to try these.” He says that with a grin. I move my eyes to the pancake and stare at it: it’s got a heavily sweet smell.

Dan holds out my knife and fork to me. I ignore him. His fingers tense; I still ignore him. He lets out an irritated growl and slams them onto the table.

“Enough! Stop spiting me!” He’s bearing a toothy snarl, like a predator. “I’m trying to give us a good time - that’s  _why_ I paid to bring us here in the first place. Do you know how much a holiday like this costs? Do you know how much  _everything_ I’ve  _ever_ bought for you has cost? How much money do you think I have?!” Good thing he chose an isolated table, because people would really be starting to stare.

He pauses for a minute, gasping, trying to catch his breath. For a brief second, I look up, and I see tears in his red-rimmed eyes.

“All I wanted,” he gasps, “was for us to have a good time together. I wanted you to like me. But you can’t even  _humour me_.”

Against his loud despair, I clench my teeth.

“I never asked you to spend all that money.” He takes a sharp breath in. “I never asked you to go to these lengths to try to make us work. That was all your fault.” His mouth is twitching - either in anger or upset. “I’ve never wanted us to work. I don’t give a shit about your happiness: not over mine.”

His jaw clenches, and his sobs stop.

“Well, I’m just the same.” His voice is stronger now, more confident, more driven. “I don’t give a shit about you either. This holiday isn’t real and we both know it. But I’m getting my happiness - I’m gonna live my dream with you, here, whether you like it or not. Because all that struggle between us is over: you’re mine, and that’s never going to change.”

He stands himself up. As he gathers his things, and orders me to come too:

“You’re lying,” I shoot. Dan freezes. “You care too much about me - that’s always been your problem.”

He huffs, grabs my arm, and drags us out.

This situation makes sense to me now: it isn’t the perfect setting that Dan wanted it to be. Sure, I can’t escape, and the powerful influence of Dan’s perfect dream for us presses down on me in every scene, but he still doesn’t control it. In the end, I can still defy him, and there’s very little he can do: he can’t just leave me for a while, because this holiday won’t be long; he can’t hurt me, because we have neighbours; and he can’t chain me up, because he couldn’t bring his supplies - I checked. When it comes down to it, this is nothing more than his dream, and he still can’t secure me.

He takes us to the pool next.

Back in our room, he orders me to change, handing me some clothes he wants me to wear: long swimming trunks and a colourful t-shirt. It’s when he slips on his swimming trunks that I realise we’re going to the pool. It’s a risky move: I’m covered in scars and words carved in blood, and if anyone sees them we’d be in for some questioning. Though I do remember that  _bystanderism_ thing that Dan told me about: if only one person sees it, they won’t risk bringing it up with us. So, as long as Dan doesn’t flirt with it out in the open, we should be fine. Shame.

At the pool, Dan slips himself in and, with that beaming smile on his face again, he shrieks that it’s too cold - only joking, it’s nice and warm. I don’t laugh. He swims around for a bit whilst I sit on a sunbed and waste the minutes. I’m not going to treat this like a holiday, I’m not going to bathe in the sun (well, I would only burn), or indulge in the buffets, or at all enjoy myself. I don’t care how much he’s paid: there’s no way I can enjoy myself when I’m still chained to him like a dog.

“Phil!” he calls, catching my attention. He swims over to the edge of the pool, right under my feet, and rests his head on his arms as he hangs them over the side. “Come on in.” I just stare at him. His grin grows more devious. “Come oooon,” he slurs, taunting me. “If you do, I promise to leave you alone tonight.” He kicks his legs behind him. “Just like you wanted.”

I sigh. “ _Only_ if I get in the pool?”

He winks at me.

“You’re unbelievable.”

Frustrated, just this once I give in, because I bet he’s going to badger me endlessly until I get in the pool. I push myself up, walk myself to the edge of the pool, and, as Dan moves slightly away, I sit down and dip my legs into the water. It really is warm. When was the last time I went swimming, or even had a bath? Wait - scratch the bath.

Suddenly, Dan’s hand is on my ankle and I’m yanked into the water: I cry out as my whole body goes under, and, for a moment, everything goes quiet. Once I surface, I gasp and splutter, and, when I see Dan in front of me laughing, anger fills me, and I shove him.

“Idiot!” I yell. He doesn’t stop laughing. “That wasn’t funny!”

“Of course it was,” he teases. He swims over to me and leads me to the wall of the pool, bringing us dangerously close together.

“Hey,” I object. He only smiles. His arms reach round my waist and round my back, keeping us close, and my heart speeds up. “Stop it.”

“No.”

He giggles and rests his head against my shoulder, sighing contently. I look around and can’t help but be alarmed by the number of people looking at us.

“Dan,” I whisper. I bring my arms between us and try to shove him away. “Dan, stop. People are staring.”

His body tenses up, and, wordlessly, giggles gone, he pushes away from me.

We don’t spend much longer in the pool. He takes us out, dries us off, and brings us back to the room, where we clothe ourselves for dinner. With me hardly talking, and Dan hardly talking, in his strange little sulk, time passes painfully slowly, and I almost wish he was being overly optimistic again. Dinner, too, goes slowly; we’re in silence for a bit, but once Dan goes for his second helping he perks up again and starts trying to show me how great everything here is again. I suppose, unlike this morning, I shouldn’t try to spite him by ruining his little roleplay, because he’ll try everything he can to keep it going; besides - I don’t have to be a part of it. After dinner, as it starts to get dark, we head back to the room, shower from the pool, and get into bed. He doesn’t try anything tonight - at least, not yet. But, once I’m settled under the covers, he does curl up next to me, slip his fingers into mine, and press his head against my chest; I don’t say anything to object and I don’t move away, because I can feel, in this tense and silent air, how upset he is from today. I may be trying to spite him, but I’m not out to actively upset him: once he knows how I’m not playing along I don’t need to keep going, so tonight I don’t. I let him have my arm round his waist and the warmth of my body against his, and we fall silently to sleep.

***

Peej and Chris lay together, in his bed, still breathing a little heavily. They are cuddled together despite how warm it now is, still refusing to let each other go. The air is a little bit warmer than usual - one of them suggests they open the window, but neither moves.

“You’re going to ache in the morning,” shyly, Chris whispers.

“I know.” Peej blushes. “I don’t mind, though.”

Chris can’t help but smile at that.

Silence returns, but they don’t mind it: it’s pleasant and comforting, like a blanket, and it lets their minds wordlessly drift back to previous moments, and both of their faces turn red at the thoughts.

“Peej,” Chris calls. The younger hums back, tilting his head up slightly to look at him, and, with that, Chris looks back. “Does this mean… we're… you know…?”

Peej raises an eyebrow. “… Dating?” Chris nervously bites his bottom lip. Peej just giggles. “What do you take me for?! Of course we are!”

The older jumps up, ecstatic. “Really?! You mean that?”

“Yes!” Peej’s laughing. “You idiot!”

Letting out an overwhelmed, happy cry, Chris takes Peej up in his arms and hugs him tightly; straight away, Peej’s arms join, and he buries his head into Chris’ warm chest: he can feel his heartbeat, and it’s heavy.

“I don’t know what to say,” Chris cries. “I’m so happy.”

Peej grins warmly and deepens the hug. “Me too. I didn’t think I could, but it’s true: all because of you. I’m happy with you.”

“Oh shush, you’ll make me blush.”

He giggles. “Good.”

Peej, letting the weight of the moment finally sink in, sighs with relief. He isn’t scared, or traumatised, or uncomfortable. He’s not longing for someone distant. He’s happy. Chris’ delighted heartbeat against Peej’s ear is comforting, and he revels in it. He just hopes that, someday, Phil might know a happiness like his right now.

 

 


	51. Chapter 50

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil, 23; Dan, 18. February 2010. With the relationship straining at its limits, they will have to come to a resolution.

**WN: strong language, angst, captor/captive situation, brief attempted non-con, drugging, implied torture**

The next day - Tuesday - he’s back to his usual, upbeat self.

“Come on, lazy bones! Breakfast time!”

He’s jumping on my back, chanting “wake up, wake up” like a child. Eventually, with a groan, I manage to roll myself over and shove him off me.

“Shut up,” I sleepily mumble, rubbing my eyes. “What time is it?”

“Eight, of course.”

“Eight?! In the  _morning_?!”

With a huff, I throw the covers over my head and fall back into the pillow.

“NOOOO!” he cries, resuming his whining and prodding.

When I finally get up and shower, it’s nearing nine, and Dan is mocking disapproval with a pout and folded arms - he looks like a little brat. We dress - well,  _I_ dress, since he already had a while ago - and finally head out for breakfast. This time, there’s no tension, no argument, no teetering on the edges of Dan’s temper: there are no games from me. I try, at least a little, to play along and have my fun - after all, pissing him off and winding him up can be quite the amusement for me - but by the time lunch swings around, I’m already bored with it. He’s just too desperate to have his fun, no matter what I try, and no playful tease or insult of mine can seem to wipe that stupid smile from his face. So I give up: I lay on the sunbed, face flat, staring mindlessly up at the sky, and I long to go to bed. I can hear him splashing about in the water, having fun, occasionally begging me to join him. But I can’t.

“Come ooon!” he sings. He splashes my feet with water and I flinch them up out of his reach. The sounds all still for a moment - for a while. He doesn’t say a word. Eventually, I hear him swim away, and he goes back to having fun.

It doesn’t last long though: after a few more minutes, he’s gone quiet again, and as I hear the water still around him, he lets out a long, quiet sigh, which I’m not sure whether or not I was intended to hear, and then he’s getting out; he grabs a towel from my side, pats himself down, and mumbles something about “getting a drink”, and then he’s gone. I revel in the solitude that it grants me, because I don’t get much of it here. I glance behind me to see where he’s gone, and notice him sitting at the bar, all alone, with a glass of something. He’s not drinking it, though: he’s just sitting there. I can’t help but frown. What is he doing? Pouting? I turn myself away: why should I care? Isn’t it good for me if he gets tired of me, of this ‘honeymoon’? It’s not like I want to make him happy - I just don’t want to make him angry.

So Dan sits over there, and I sit over here, not letting myself care. If he wants me over there with him, then he’d call me over, and I’m fine with that.

He comes back after a long while, mumbling something about lunch, so Dan goes back to the room for a quick shower and we meet in the restaurant. Lunch is quiet, but he doesn’t seem to be overly depressed - he’s still smiling and joyful-looking, even if we don’t talk. It sets me on edge a little, because I don’t know what he’s thinking now. Could he be angry with me, somehow? Could he be trying to compose a new scheme to get me to play along better? At least I can confidently say that he’s not trying to get me to genuinely like being here, because right now he’s not focusing on me.

After lunch, Dan takes my hand and walks me down to the edge of the resort: the beach. It’s afternoon, now, so the people are slightly more sparse than usual (I presume). Dan lays our towels down beside each other but we walk right passed them - he’s taking me towards the sea.

“Dan,” I cry, trying to wrench my hand out of his grip. “Let go. I don’t want to go in.”

“Oh, come on! You can’t go the beach and  _not_ swim in the sea.” He’s giggling, still trying to drag my weight with him. I try leaning all my weight back, but - even though it does make him struggle - he’s too persistent to stop.

“Dan! Our clothes!”

“I packed spares.”

He runs us up to the water and, as the freezing wave washes over our feet, he stills, and starts jumping his feet up in shock.

“Ah! Cold!” he yells, but he still giggles. “You didn’t tell me it’d be cold.”

“You didn’t give me a chance!” I yell back. My feet are freezing too. “Let me get out.”

With that, Dan lets out a sigh, and holds onto me tighter. “I won’t make you go any further, okay?  Just paddle with me.”

It’s obvious that I won’t be going anywhere, so I take a deep breath in and endure the cold.

Eventually, as Dan tries to venture further, his grip on my hand releases, and he doesn’t look back. He laughs and squeals in strange childlike delight, and it makes me wonder whether he’s ever been on a beach before. Suddenly, he stumbles, and falls face first into the water: before I have a moment to panic for him, he bursts up to the surface again, coughing, crying, and screaming about how cold it is. He tries to get out of the water again but trips and falls down a second time, and, with that, my body releases an involuntarily burst of laughter - and I curse myself for it.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, do you?” Dan whines at me. He gradually gets his footing again. “What if I’d hurt myself, huh? What would you have done?”

I shrug. “Well, I’m nice and dry over here, so…”

He gasps. Then - and, really, I should have seen this coming - he pushes a huge wave of water right at me, and, instantly, I’m soaked.

“You - !”

Enraged, I splash him right back, over and over, until it overwhelms him, and he’s back on his ass.

When his head pops up, he looks mad too. “You deserved it for mocking me! Yeah! That’s what you get, for constantly annoying me so much.”

That strikes a very particular nerve in me, and, without thinking, without hesitating, I rush forwards, reaching my arms out towards him, and, seeing me, his eyes go wide, and he cries: “No! Wait!”

Too late: I tackle him down into the water again, which soaks us both. It’s not too deep, so I come off him quickly, sitting back on my heels. Dan eventually raises his head out of the water, really spluttering now, and, to my surprise, is assaulted with giggles.

I frown. “What?” He doesn’t stop. “What is it?”

He takes a while to catch his breath enough to speak. “Oh, it’s just… just you.” He wipes his eyes as well as he can, trying to make himself see again, and, after that, he pushes his hair back from his face. “You’re pretty predictable, you know?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, I got you into the water, didn’t I?!” He splashes me a little, chuckling. “Didn’t you have fun?”

After all that, my smile goes. I stand myself up, walk myself out of the water, and dry myself off with the towel. Dan, annoyingly, follows.

“Oh, come on! Just because you had fun you’re going to go sulk again? Are you really just trying spite me?”

“Well, yes,” I admit, shrugging, as I lay the towel back on the sand and lay myself down.

Dan pouts. “But why?”

“Because we’re not on good terms, Dan. Sure - you can have your fun. But I don’t want to be here. You’ve done so many shitty things to me that you can’t salvage anything from me now.” I put on a pair of sunglasses that Dan brought with him and cut him from my vision. “You’ve got what you wanted: I’m a prisoner. But that means you can’t have anything genuine from me.”

He’s silent. “What if I didn’t imprison you anymore?”

That suggestion surprises me. I scoff. “Like I’d forget what a captor you are.”

The air around us gets uncomfortably tense, and I think, if anything was to set him off on this holiday, it might be this. But there are other people on this beach - so, to do that, he’d have to drag me back to our room, or somewhere else out of sight.

But, instead, Dan sits himself down on the towel next to mine - no -  _lays_ himself down, beside me, rolls into my side, and rests his head against my shoulder. I take off the sunglasses and look down at him: he’s buried his face from my sight, from anyone’s sight. I frown and put the glasses back on. Then, Dan’s fingers move between mine, and his other hand wraps round my bicep: and they squeeze..

“I…” he murmurs. “I just want to be happy.”

I don’t doubt it.  _Living the dream_  - that’s what he’s trying to do.

“Fine,” I say. “But we can’t both be happy.”

To that, Dan never answers. We fall into silence, and the buzzing sound of other beach-goers mingles only with the sound of the gently crashing waves to our ears. The sky is bright and clear, void of any clouds, and the sun beams down so hot we can feel it on our skin - perhaps we should have put sun cream on. If I ignore the context of my being here, and I ignore the person clutching desperately at my arm, it really feels like a nice, normal holiday - that was the intention, after all.

Looking out to the sea, as the waves wash to and fro along the shore, I wonder how strong that pull is, of the tide, and I wonder how far that sea goes: does it get deeper, the further you go? Has anyone ever lived to see that far? To get swept up by the tide, and get pulled that far out, you have to put yourself in that situation - you have to walk into it. You don’t get caught unless you’re already wet. But, once you are, you can get out, right? Well, there is one way to go further, without being dragged under: you use a boat.

“I want to go back,” I tell him. “To the room.”

For a moment, Dan doesn’t move. But, eventually - reluctantly - he pulls himself off me, and gets up with me, keeping his head down in a sulk all the way back.

Back in the room, I tell him I want a shower, after getting soaked with sea water, and he doesn’t stop me. I get into the bathroom and lock the door - then, thinking back, I unlock it again - undress, and get in the shower.  _Just a quick one_ , I decide, since I only need a rinse, though I can’t deny that I’d love to waste some time in here instead of being in his company.

I never hear the bathroom door open, but I hear him slide the shower door, and, spinning around, I gasp and cover myself up. But Dan doesn’t react: he’s still keeping his head down, and doesn’t mock me in any way.

“What are you doing?!” I yell at him, appalled.

“I wanted a shower too,” he mumbles back as he shuts the door. “I got wet, too.” He steps up to me. “We should always have our showers together.”

I gulp. “That’s not how this works.”

“Yes it is. It always has been.”

I grit my teeth.  _Fuck_. He’s annoying when he’s in a sulk.

He steps forward again, looks up, and presses his lips to mine.

Shocked, I try pulling away - slamming my back into the shower wall - but that just corners me, and, this time, as he kisses me again, he presses his body against mine to keep me in place. His arms frame me, leaning his hands on the wall behind me, which lets him lean deep into the kiss. Panicked, heart racing, I bring my hand up and shove his head away from mine: even so, he tries to push back.

“Fuck…” I cry. “Stop!”

“But it’s been so long,” he whines back. “I need you.”

My legs are shaking: I don’t want to go through this again.

“No.” He won’t budge. “I said no!”

Just then, Dan leans back, and, with all my force exerting forwards, I nearly fall - but, as I counter it, I slip backwards, and land on my ass. I seethe in pain.

Dan crouches down with me and climbs over my legs.

“We haven’t fucked in ages,” he complains, bringing his face up to mine. Before I can move, his hands land on mine: and I’m chained down. “I’m eighteen - I can’t take it anymore.”

He presses our mouths together again and leans right over me - meaning I can’t move. I’m trapped _. No, I’m not doing this again!_

I bite down on his lip, hard, and he pulls back with a cry - in panic, now free, I bring my foot between us and ram him away from me: my force, it seems, was a little too much, as Dan flies back across the shower floor and smacks his head against the wall. With a pained whine, he brings his hands to his mouth and the back of his head, cradling them with care.

His eyes catch mine, enraged. I’m panting, shocked, but I glare right back at him. After a moment, his eyes fall from angry to sad, and he slumps against the shower wall.

“I get it…” he groans, deflated. “I get how it is…”

Obviously pained, he struggles to stand himself up. As he opens the shower door, an urge of guilt forces itself out of my mouth, and I cry “Dan, I - ” but he leaves before I can say the rest. I slump against the wall, too, tired from the shock _. Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have been so rough. But what else could I do: bargain? Like that’s ever worked._

By the time I get out of the shower, too, Dan has already left. At first, I don’t think anything of it - I laze around, watching TV, enjoying the solitude - but a few hours go by and he doesn’t come back. Dinner time rolls around, and starts to pass, and he still won’t show. I end up going down to the restaurant myself, as dinner starts to end, and grab myself a bite, wondering if he’ll show up here and find me - but he doesn’t. Eventually, I go back to the room and let the food go down, telling myself he’ll be back before dark: but I’m still wrong. That actually makes me worry - could something have happened to him? No, surely not. But might  _he_ have done something rash? He’s done so before; it’s well within his character.

 _Fuck_ , I grumble, as I grab my shoes and coat and head out to find him.

The first place I check - besides passing the pool - is the beach: and that’s where I find him. Curled up, legs folded and hugged into his chest, staring out onto the horizon, Dan perches, never moving an inch. I gently sigh in relief and slow myself down. The sun is gradually sinking into the sea, from where we are, and behind us the sky is turning dark - and around us the light is dimming, like a wavering candle. Since it’s so late, and cold, the beach is empty, making Dan alone. How long has he been alone?

When I walk up next to him, staring down, he doesn’t move; he doesn’t acknowledge me, but I know he knows. Without a word, I sit myself down beside him, legs crossed, keeping my knees down.

He breathes in deeply.

“Do you know,” he starts, voice light and quiet, “how many times I imagined us somewhere like this? Do you know how many different versions of us I had, just on a beach like this one?”

I keep quiet - honestly, I had never thought about it.

He sighs. “No. Of course you don’t. You don’t know half of my side of the story. You don’t know anything about those years I spent loving you, and idolising you, to the point where I felt both great joy and great pain from it, because whilst I was gaining some sort of feeling of companionship, I was also having to experience the painful reminder of my complete loneliness. You don’t know the hardships of idolising someone you can’t reach, that you’ll probably never reach, that you can hardly dig up info on. You don’t know the desperate struggle I had trying to get noticed by you, scraping like a starving beggar for even the slightest chance at the dream of becoming a real friend to you.” He drops his head back, as if to look to the sky - and he sleepily blinks at the sight. “No. You don’t know any of that, because you’ve always been in the spotlight. No matter what I did, you were always the love who was loved, and that’s been your safety net all this time. You could try throwing me away, because you didn’t need me like I needed you. You had Peej, and all your other fans. You could have my love, but you couldn’t deal with the commitment of having that be mutual.”

“That’s not true,” I - impulsively - shoot back.

Dan sharply turns his head to me, and his eyes are sharp, tired, and scrutinising.

“Oh, really?” he mocks, never smiling.

“You’ve tested me numerous times. You’ve made me think we were over - that you didn’t love me anymore.”

His eyes glaze over for a moment - reminiscing, perhaps. Then, decided, he rolls his head back straight.

“I’m too tired now,” he confesses. “I’ve worked so hard to get you - foolishly, mostly - but I don’t have the energy for it anymore. I used to think - used to be  _convinced_ that such efforts would always be worth it, in the end.” He breathes in heavily, like it strains him. “I think I’ve really grown with you.”

Dan pulls his head forwards, after another silence from me, and gazes out across the sea. The waves fill the space around us, that empty yet heavy absence of words. I notice Dan’s feet are bare but the water doesn’t reach them.

“I just wanted to be happy,” he tells me - again. “I wanted to have my dream come true, so I tried to force it, even if you weren’t in the right place for it. I just wanted to see it, only for a brief moment.” He’s quiet for a while. “I wanted to be that happy couple on the beach, watching the sunset - just once. Just like…” He pauses. “Just like I always dreamed.”

His fingers slightly tighten round his shorts. He won’t raise his head.

Once he’s silent for a while, I take a deep breath, open my mouth, and speak:

“I want to go back.”

I don’t specify where, but he knows - because he lets out a sudden choked sob. His fingers shake, but he doesn’t dare move. He doesn’t say a word. In a way - in this reluctance, tense way - this is him letting me go.

I stand myself up, brush the sand from my clothes, and head back to the room: in the distance, muffled by the ever-singing crashing of the waves, comes Dan’s distant, pained cries.

I pack my bags and grab a taxi before Dan comes back, as I’d hoped to do: it seems he won’t come looking for me this time. Plane ticket hand, I know exchanging it for an earlier flight will cost more, but I don’t care: a few hundred pounds to finally get away from Dan is like a dream escape.

It’s strange, when I get home. I felt weird from the moment I stepped into the taxi, and, as much as I thought the feeling would fade, it hasn’t, even when I’m back in my room. How long has it been, this thing with Dan? Nearly four months. And yet it feels so much longer - it’s felt like a lifetime. So long, in fact, that I’m struggling to return to normal: isn’t that sad? Somehow, I actually got  _used_ to that chaotic lifestyle with him.

I find my phone and laptop, finally feeling back in touch with reality, finally feeling that desperate sense of freedom, now that I have them again. Now  _that’s_ back to normal. I open and load up my laptop, and -  _oh_.  _That video_. I’d forgotten all about it, with everything that’s gone on since: I’d spent so much time on it, and made it so heartfelt - I was  _really_ planning on staying with him.  _Ugh_ , I think, clutching my head, pained just thinking about it.  _Had I really just been about to do that? How deluded was I?_ I close it and choose to ignore it: besides the hints I gave about a 'surprise’, Dan never knows this existed; and, hopefully, with time I will forget it too.

 _Forget._ Forget, and return to normal, like nothing between us ever happened.

It doesn’t last long, though. How weak I’ve become. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, I can’t forget what has happened, because it doesn’t feel like it’s ended: after all, Dan still knows where I live, and he’s still got those trackers in me. If he doesn’t suck this up, if he hasn’t truly grown up and realised he needs to stop going after me, then he’ll come back - I don’t want to live the rest of my life in fear that he may return, smarter and stronger than before, to really seal the deal (or worse - exact revenge for the years of his life I made him waste).

It takes a few days, and a lot of painful thought, but I realise, inevitably, what I have to do:

I have to bring him back.

I publish the video on Valentine’s Day - private, on my account, as I’m sure he’ll check it and see (since he learnt mine and Peej’s channel logins). With that, I sit back, nervously twisting my fingers and biting my lip. My heart is pounding with every hour that goes by, and then every minute, knowing that at any second he may burst through the door. He’ll come, of course he’ll come - being his first love, being  _that_ invested in me, of course he’ll check on how I’m doing: and then he’ll see it, and come running back. Because that’s the dream, isn’t it? After every break-up, when you’re the victim, you dream of them crying that they want you back. Won’t Dan be happy, seeing that, even after I left him there at the beach, I still want him back? It’s so cute just thinking about it.

Two days. Two days after the video, Dan finally appears at my door: he pounds on it hard - desperately - as if to break it down just to get to me a little faster. Hands shaking, heart trembling, I reach the door, close my fingers round the handle, and twist -

Dan comes flying through and embraces me instantly, and - as the door shuts behind him - the weight and warmth of his hug affects me more than I thought it would, and tears well in my eyes. And I realise, hearing him sniffle, that Dan is just the same.

“You - ! You - !” he struggles, gasping into the collar of my shirt. He starts hiccupping too, overwhelmed. “How could you - !”

I shush him gently and lay one of my hands on his head, holding him warmly against me. “It’s alright; I’m not going anywhere anymore. Hey,” I say, as he continues to sob. “Didn’t I promise you? I’ll never leave you.” I lean down and press a soothing kiss to his head, and, with that, he starts to relax into me. Then I hold him back against me, as if to keep him safe and sound. “It’s okay. We’re together now. Everything’s going to be okay.”

It takes a while for him to calm down. Once he does, we rest in the kitchen - and, from all the crying, I make us both a couple of drinks to rehydrate our bodies.

Dan laughs nervously as he brings the cup to his lips, and I watch it. “Ha - I can’t believe I cried. I guess I haven’t grown up after all.” He rings both hands round the cup, despite it not being warm, as though in a shy, shrinking gesture.

“That’s not a bad thing,” I assure him. “I always liked that about you. You remember how I interested I was in the younger you?”

He hums at that and blushes a little.

Then he goes on a shy little rant about how sorry he is, how silly he’s acted, and how much he’s hurt me - but, how, despite all that, he hopes I can forgive him, because he did it all in the name of Love. And, with every awkward pause to gather his thoughts, he takes a sip of his drink, so I take a sip of mine, and I feel my heartbeat quicken.

“Do you think you could do it?” he asks me, looking up, finally meeting my eyes: hopeful. “Could you ever forgive me?”

I look down into my cup: nearly empty. I place it down on the side and show him my gentlest smile.

“I do. I’ll forgive you - I’ll forgive everything.” He smiles warmly, ecstatic. “One day.”

Those dreamy, youthful eyes of his flash with hope. “Someday soon?”

“Hopefully  _very_ soon.” I raise my head to him. “Are you done?”

He looks at his cup. “Ahh, yes. Thank you.” He leaves it on the table and pushes himself up. “I’ll just use the toilet quickly.” I nod to him and watch.

He goes to the leave the room, and, with my heart in my throat, as he reaches the door, I see him stumble. He lets out a little noise of embarrassment, but as he goes on, his legs fail him, and he collapses to the ground.

“Umm…” he moans, unable to get himself up. “Phil… what…?”

I take a deep breath in, push myself off the counter, and let out a scoff.

“ _Oh dear_ : you walked right into that one.”

He lets out a noise of confusion and struggles to turn round and see me. I walk over to him, kneel down before him, and lift up his chin in my hand.

“You really thought I’d just take you back, just like that? Oh no - you’ve done too much damage for this to be that easy.” I squeeze my fingers and, lightly, he squeaks. “I’ve decided, since reasoning doesn’t work with you, I’ll have to try something tougher. So get ready - because this won’t be fun.”

Weakly, he lets out a terrified cry. His body is limp - he can’t move it a single inch. He shouldn’t have left all his stuff in my house. So he really never saw something like this coming.

“You’re about to know every pain you’ve put me through.”


	52. The Final Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil, 23; Dan, 18. February 2010. With the relationship strained at its limits, they finally reach a resolution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [dw there will be more to come! kind of like side stories - it will see into the future of these characters ^_^ but this is the end of their main struggles]

**WN: strong language, angst, captor/captive situation, restraint, drugging, non-con (drugged), torture (mutilation, blood, knives, strangulation)**

Dan’s body - warm, stripped, and laid on the bedroom floor - gently struggles with limited energy. The drug - the opiate - is active in his veins, so, like a wave of sleep pressing down on his body, drowsiness stifles every motion it tries to make. Gently stirring, twisting, and moaning, under the cloth his eyebrows tighten and struggle in his mental strain: he won’t yet accept his vulnerability, the futility of such struggle. His flesh is warm and his breath is short, as if he’d just been running, and his mouth hangs slightly open to better catch his breath. Below, his pelvis twists and his thighs rub together, out of his conscious control, because  _down there_ is suddenly so warm and he can’t take the lack of contact that is needed to satiate it - because of this, this desperate, uncivilised behaviour, his face burns red, and he lifts his head up, as if to see the binds that loosely hold his wrists in place, and he tries to tamper with them, wrists twisting, failing.

Enter Phil: now, the one with the control. He kneels down at the side of Dan’s struggling body, watches - taking in the rare, valuable sight - and lays his hand on Dan’s wrists.

He flinches, bringing his head straight - to where he thinks Phil might be - and, turning red, he turns away.

“So,” Phil starts: his voice is more refined, more confident, than usual, but there’s an element of something left unrestrained there too. “How is it?” Dan tries to close his mouth, but, needing the breath, it falls open again. “How does it feel, being in the position you put me and Peej in two months ago?” He leans down, and his breath falls over Dan’s cheek. “Is it scary?”

He doesn’t respond: but, inside, he wishes he could. It’s like he’s fallen from the controls, and he can’t reach them, so when he tries to force the shape of a word onto his lips, nothing happens.

Phil’s hand slips from Dan’s wrist, down his arm, and along his collar, making a little whimper escape him, as it settles on his chest. They’re silent, as Phil listens.

“Hmm. Still quite fast,” he comments, withdrawing his hand. “You get quite used to listening to your own heartbeat, like this; it’s as if awareness of it is heightened, just like…” - he brushes his fingers along Dan’s neck and, subtly, he flinches - “sensitivity.”

Dan whimpers.

Phil scoffs. “Don’t like it?” Without warning - since Dan can’t see - he brings his hand between Dan’s legs, and he squeals. “ _Like_ is going to become very confusing for you.”

So starts up Dan’s twisting again - weakly, and futile, as his body betrays and confuses him. It’s warm - too warm - he can’t take it. His head falls sideways so his mouth falls into the bare flesh of his arm, and, there, he lets his noises be muffled: Phil reaches up and takes Dan’s chin, leading it straight again, and Dan’s face twitches because he doesn’t want to be seen like this. Phil leans forwards - Dan can feel breath on his lips - then his head is twisted left and teeth sink into his neck. Gasping, he tries to wriggle free, but it’s useless. His mouth tries crying out - his body tenses - and, as it falls limp, Phil pulls away.

“So fucking sensitive,” he murmurs, wiping his hand clean. “What are you, fifteen?”

Dan feels a faint urge to cry, and doesn’t respond.

Phil’s voice has gotten thinner - his throat has tightened up. He undoes his belt, takes off his trousers, and - steadying his breathing - prepares himself. As he grabs Dan’s knees and separates them, the captive beneath him lets out a choked, knowing noise.

“What? This is what you wanted - wasn’t it?” Phil huffs as he positions himself. Dan’s wrists twist in a futile effort to escape; his throat cries out in a futile effort to object.  _No_ , he thinks.  _This isn’t what I wanted. I never wanted something like this. So please!_  But none of those words make it out. Even so, they wouldn’t be what Phil wanted to hear.

_“Aren’t you worried at all?”_

_“Of course not. Why should I be scared of you? You’re the squishiest human alive. There’s no way you could hurt anything; especially me.”_

Dan is suddenly thrown over onto his front, and his hips are gripped again. His mouth, turned sideways, tries to close, but he still can’t do it. His hands try to clench: he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like it because somehow he  _does_ , and he hates that - it doesn’t make sense! This stupid drug…!

Phil leans over him; his breath is more ragged than before - it’s been a while. “Does it hurt?” he asks, knowing he won’t get an answer.  _Yes,_ Dan thinks.  _Because you didn't… But I still need it, stupidly - stupidly!_ Usually, he’d quite enjoy such a pain, when he’s in the mood for it; but this is different - the drug induced this one, and it’s too foreign, too strikingly  _wrong_  to the body. His face twists up, as much as it can: he wishes he’d never known what that drug did. He wishes he’d never wanted to know, as if the moment that he let the thought manifest that he’d written it in stone.

Phil, gasping slightly, pauses - keeping one hand on Dan’s hip, leans away, and returns. Within his hands he carefully works the tools: his heart thumps with nervousness as he does, because this isn’t what he’s used to.

“Hang on…” he mutters, half to himself, as he prepares it. “The drug will wear off soon, so, by that time, we’ll be doing something different.” His hand moves from Dan’s lower half to his head, holding the back to keep it facing the side. Face red, he tensely swallows, willing himself on. “Keep in mind that I won’t be stopping.”

Dan’s ignorance is voiced by a quiet squeak in the brief pause between Phil’s words and the time it takes for his hips to work again. As they do - first hand holding tighter on Dan’s head - a cloth-bearing hand is pressed over Dan’s face, and, after a faint noise of objection, his features soften, and his consciousness is suppressed.

Keeping forwards, discarding the cloth, Phil lifts a small section of the blindfold, seeing Dan’s eyes calmly closed, and leans back. He stops - takes a moment to breathe in deeply, to do the necessary psyching-up:  _I know - I don’t want to be doing this either, not really; but there’s no choice here. To meet eye to eye, we must serve an eye for an eye. This will either cure him or turn him away from me for good: the fiery antidote._

And then he perseveres.

In his sleep, Dan dreams of Phil: he dreams of how he used to dream of him, in the former, younger years, before he came to this house. He dreams of them talking, in their pyjamas, smiling and laughing together like new friends that feel like old friends. He dreams of nothing bad ever happening, no foolish attempts to get closer, no resistance to friendship on Phil’s part; and, in the end, as the night draws to a close, they heartily jokingly discuss whether they should snuggle.

Dan doesn’t actually dream that this time: his mind merely conceives the idea that those moments preceded these:

_Phil grabs Dan’s shoulders and shoves him against the wall of his bed, presses himself up against him, and forces Dan’s legs apart. Dan objects - he cries and rejects the reality - but nothing works: his usual looming control has abandoned him. Now, he’s at the mercy of something else, and he hates it: it makes him want to cry._

_The Dan in the dream begs to know what brought this on: usually, these dreams segue into them kissing, seemingly out of the blue, realising their underlying feelings for each other; but this isn’t what this is. Even similar dreams - the rougher, wilder ones of his later years - were more romantic than this, because, even when Phil took control and took what he wanted, he was doing it out of love: insuppressible, unstoppable love. But this… this just hurts. There’s no love in it. All Dan can do is wonder how, then, this came to happen: surely people don’t rape the things they hate?_

When he wakes, he remembers the situation; he remembers that that horrid dream wasn’t the end of it.

In a way, he wishes for the drug back: because any goodness, any pleasure, is gone.

_Ah. It all makes sense now. All this time, I wasn’t dreaming up the Phil of my future: I was creating an ideal, one that could never truly exist. How could I ever think that he would love me so strongly that he would lose control of his body to it? How could I ever have believed that having him force himself upon me would be pleasurable?_

Now, having realised, he lays there, waiting for the pain to end.

Phil notices Dan’s mouth is finally closed - no longer held open by the numbing torpor of the drug - so he reaches for the blindfold, lifts it up: and sees Dan’s eye twitch open. His heart leaps in his chest: the blindfold is wet, and the rims of the eyes are an achingly pink.  _Ah_ , he thinks.  _Something’s worked._

“Had enough?” he forces out, with the utmost confidence he can manifest. Dan’s eye flutters downwards, as if wishing for the blindfold to be replaced.

Phil waits, wondering, and moves the cloth down from the eyes to the mouth.

“Look here,” he instructs, taking Dan’s jaw into his hand and leading his head a little higher. Then, with his other hand, he points to the desk: on it, as Dan quickly realises, is a camera. His eyes widen at the sight - more precisely, the understanding. “There’s a couple more, just so you know. So listen:” Phil clenches his hand slightly in warning, and Dan - without being ordered - fixes his eyes obediently on Phil’s, attentive: “you’ve fucked me over with secret footage before, so know that if you ever try to mess with me like that again, or at all, this will go live: YouTube, RedTube, I don’t care which. I’ll make sure people see it. Understand?”

The urge to cry returns to Dan, and he can’t find it in himself to hold it back: why try, when he’s lost everything?

Phil notices, and, swallowing to soothe his own tightening throat, he lets Dan’s jaw go.

He reaches over to the bedside drawers, crossing Dan’s vision, and opens the top drawer. “Time for something else, then,” he exclaims, retrieving the item he needs. As Dan sees it, his eyes widen, and a shiver of dread runs down his spine: knife.

He struggles and cries out, muffled by the gag, to get Phil’s attention. His heart is pounding:  _no, not that!_

Phil lets out a sharp huff of annoyance and sits himself over Dan’s thighs, to pin him down. “Stop it. Keep still.”

Dan struggles enough that the loose gag falls out of his mouth: he turns his head as far round as he can and yells. “Don’t! Don’t do it, please! I’m scared! You don’t have to do that too!” He goes on and on, even when Phil thrusts his hand over the mouth. Even muffled, Dan objects: “No more,” he tries to cry, coming out as wordless moans.

Frustrated, with a sigh Phil throws Dan over onto his back, puts down the knife, and closes both hands round his throat. Instantly, Dan chokes - and tears spring to his eyes.

“Shut up, will you?” Phil hisses. The moment - its power, possibilities, and implications - make his body tremble. He doesn’t like it. But he presses on, because this should work: he knows it does. “Promise you’ll stop.” He strengthens it. Dan’s mouth is stuck open, gasping desperately for breath. “Promise!”

Shutting his eyes, Dan quickly nods his head. Phil’s hands pull away. His chest jerks, coughing, taking in as much air as it can, starved for it. Indifferently - at least, appearing so, Phil turns Dan back over, and settles himself back over him. As he takes up the cloth in his hands and secures it round Dan’s head, the boy snivels, tears falling, and, helplessly, he trembles.  _I don’t want this_ , he wants to cry.  _I don’t want this to hurt. This was never supposed to happen, so why am I here?_ He squeezes his eyes shut.  _I want to go home._

Carefully, shaking all over, Phil makes the first cut: it’s shallow and small, but, even so, Dan’s throat lets out a pained squeak, and Phil has to swallow down his nerves and guilt.  _Guilt_ , he thinks:  _how foolish. Why should I feel guilty for revenge?_ Along the thick flesh of the shoulder blade, Phil starts to scrawl:  _A_ ; then  _B_ ;  _U; S; E; R_. He moves to the other one, and just underneath, marks the letters  _C-A-P-T-O-R_ , moving faster and less nervously than before. At his hip, he writes  _S-T-A-L-K-E-R_ , and, beside it, after careful deliberation, he swaps  _SADIST_ for  _T-O-R-T-U-R-E-R_. Then, taking his arm, blade against thick bicep, Phil writes  _O-B-S-E-S-S-I-V-E_ , and on the other  _I-N-S-A-N-E_ : as harsh at that may be, it’ll hurt, and that will get the message across.

He sits back, once done, but Dan’s body keeps tensed, still terrified of more. It stings - Phil knows it does, even from here, and it’s painful even to see. Persevering, he takes out his phone, holds it over the body, and snaps a photo.

He’s sniffling quietly, as if letting Phil hear it could make this worse. He’s shown the photo: after a moment of looking it over, and reading all the words, he looks away, and his tears start up again.

Phil takes it back.

“Are you getting it now?” Dan keeps his eyes down. “You said you cared about me before, but it wasn’t enough. You couldn’t know what it was like, being treated like this by you just because you were anxious and desperate for a quick solution. But now you do - rather than ignorantly sympathising, you can  _empathise_ with me. So;” he leans down, making sure he’s clearly heard: “now, do you regret it?”

He watches closely, silently, waiting for the answer: waiting for Dan to nod his head. But he doesn’t; he says still. He lets out a sigh to himself, disappointed, then he undoes the cuffs and drags Dan - by the hair - to the floor, across the carpet, and sits him in front of the desk. With a pained cry, Dan settles in front of the chair, not moving even as Phil grabs his hands and cuffs them round the leg.

“Head down,” he orders, which Dan quietly obeys.

On the chair sits Phil’s laptop: he opens it up, loads Skype, and starts the call. Even now, his heart is pounding - is he really doing the right thing? He’d messaged Peej the day before:  _Think I’m finally getting my own back_ , he’d said;  _If all goes well, I’ll call you tomorrow. You’ll want to see it._ And, after a few hours, Peej had replied:  _Sounds good. But be careful._

The call is answered.

“Shit,” Peej gasps. “You really did it?”

Phil nods proudly. Carefully, he pushes the laptop over, so the camera lands on Dan. Phil puts his hand to Dan’s hair and yanks his head up - with a cry, the head rises, and Peej gasps again.

“Oh my  _god_ , Phil.” For a while, that’s all he says. He stares blankly at the screen. “I don’t know what to think.” His eyes fall to the gag in the boy’s mouth, then the teary eyes, and, by the embarrassed hunch of his shoulders, the start of the marks that Phil had just made. “You’re both mad.”

Phil smiles. “Yeah. I thought as much.” Then, turning to Dan, he brings his fingers to the gag and pulls it down. “Tell him you’re sorry.”

Dan’s eyes, like a child’s, glance shyly to the screen, then back down.

His hair is tugged and his face twists up with pain. “ _Ah_  - I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Peej.” His bottom lip trembles. “I never should have hurt you, and I’m sorry.”

Peej’s eyes widen. For a moment, he’s touched. Then his judgement gets the better of him.

“You were jealous of me.” Hesitantly, Dan gently - sadly - nods his head. “So you tortured me.”  _Nod._ “Threatened me.”  _Nod._ “And kidnapped me.”  _Nod._ “ _And_ Chris.”  _Sniffle. Nod._ “All because you wanted Phil?”  _Hiccup; head droops; shaky nod._ “How could you do that?”

Dan bites his lip, wishing this would end. “Because I’m young and foolish. I didn’t know what I was doing and I was too blinded by my selfish dreams to care about who I was catching in the crossfire.” More tears fall. “You were never supposed to be part of this. So I’m sorry.”

Peej glances over to Phil: he still looks frustrated, for some reason, like he’s not quite happy with this yet. He turns back to Dan.

“At least tell me this: when I went round to yours, and you - ” he gulps “ - you  _drugged_ me; why? Why not kick me out, or do literally anything else?”

Dan is quiet. Eventually, he answers: “I panicked. It’s all I ever did. You were here, and you wanted to see him, but Phil was upstairs and drugged out of his mind.” Phil stiffens. “I couldn’t think of anything to do but drug you too. I-I lost myself in the act that time.” Even further, he slumps. “I wish I’d never done that.”

Silence fills the room, and the call. Then, abruptly, Phil heaves a great sigh.

“So, Peej: are you happy?”

Peej deliberates. “I mean, as much as I’ve dreamt of getting in a good slap - ” Dan flinches “ - I think this is enough. Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

They end the call.

Dan’s face isn’t even red with embarrassment: he’s well past that now. Through the silence in that room, Phil stands himself up, and Dan keeps his head bowed.

“How does it feel, having your shame seen by the outside world?” A long silence drags out between them. “He’ll never forget this, you know: he’ll always remember you as the way he saw you now. That previous mask of authority you liked to hold over him is gone.” Quietly, Dan’s body is racked with sniffles.

Phil’s moving: heart pounding, he returns to the bed, gathers his supplies, and heads back.

“Have you thought about what will happen once this is over; when I finally let you go?” Dan doesn’t respond - he keeps his head bowed, and his body doesn’t move an inch from its chained position at the chair. “Maybe you think this won’t end, and I’ll keep you here forever. Maybe I’ll send you away and hope to never see you again - or maybe you’ll go running; do you think I brought you here to scare you, to scare the love out of you, so that you’ll never want to see me again?” That time, Dan does respond: he nods gently. Phil’s eyebrows raise slightly to himself. “Hmm. Or, maybe you’re still hoping I’ll take you back, like this is some kind of weird hazing: torture you enough, and then we’re ready to go on together.” Silence. “Somewhere, deep down, that’s exactly what you wish. But you know that will never happen.”

Phil crouches down behind Dan’s back and returns the gag to his mouth.

“No - unfortunately, none of those outcomes will be true. I need to make sure you won’t ever bother me again, and, knowing the extent of your obsession, there’s no denying that you could always come back. I don’t even want you drooling over my videos.”

Dan’s lip begins to tremble again - another oncoming wave of tears - and his body fills with a sickening distaste for the future.  _He doesn’t want me. He doesn’t even_ like  _me. After everything I’ve done, everything I’ve tried… to come to this?_

“So, after all that, there’s only one solution left.”

In one quick movement, Phil tugs Dan’s head back and brings a knife to his throat.

A muffled gasp escapes him, followed by a shiver of dread, panic, and an assault of tears.

“This is pretty well deserved, don’t you think? After all the lies and captivity and torture and threats, after you made me think my life was over, and you  _ruined_ it - I think we both can say that this is more than deserved.”

Dan’s breathing tightens and thins, scared for the next. He’s frozen in place. He tries to cry out, to protest, helplessly against the gag, but he’s convinced, with how far he’s pushed Phil, nothing could stop him. His fingers tremble: he’s petrified. The tears fall down his cheeks. He’s scared to close his eyes, and face that darkness. His heart feels desperately ready to try making an escape, but, just like him, they’re both chained to their fate.

“Know that you pushed me to this.” Then, with the hand at Dan’s hair, Phil pulls off the gag and lets him cry. “Is there anything final that you’d like to say?”

Shaking, Dan gasps: “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t want to!”

Phil tugs his head back to shut him up. “Tough shit,” he growls. “It’s too late for apologies.”

He whimpers. The knife feels like a snake curling round his neck, flashing its teeth and ready to bite. “You were right - I was selfish. Everything I did was one big tantrum. I thought I loved you: I thought I wanted to serve you, and make you happy. But I guess that was all a façade - really, I just wanted my own dream to come true. So I’m sorry.” He sniffles, despairing. “I should never have gone after you. I should never have got you involved. All I did… was ruin your life. If I’d really loved you - the  _real_ you, not the idea of you - I would never have done any of it.”

And, finally, with that, Phil feels like justice has been earned.

“So you regret it?” he asks. “Tell me you regret it.”

Dan whines out: “I do, I regret everything!”

Phil pauses. “You want to live, right?”

Dan starts up. “Yes! Yes - please!”

He’s snapped at to shut up. “If you do, I want you to never see me again.”

The boy immediately agrees, even as his heart aches at the thought.

“But I can’t just take your word for it - I’d need some sort of proof, some assurance that you’ll never seek me again.”

Dan’s heartbeat quickens with worry:  _quick, think! What could possibly convince him?_

“Take out the trackers.”

Dan stutters. “H-huh?”

“You heard me,” Phil orders. “Take out the trackers. Every last one this time.”

He doesn’t hesitate: “Okay.”

The knife is pulled away, and he chokes for breath -  _relief!_ The cuffs are switched from round the chair to just his wrists in a split second, and by them he’s dragged to face Phil. His face is just as scary as Dan had been imagining this whole time.

“Where are they?”

Fingers trembling, traumatised, Dan obeys: he leads his hands up - seething quietly at the scars as they pull - and feels in Phil’s flesh for the trackers: the first lies in his right outer thigh, the second in his left upper arm, the third at the back of his right shoulder.

“Is that all?” Phil prompts, intimidatingly. Solemnly, Dan nods. “Good.”

And then Phil throws something over to Dan, letting him have a look: it’s his phone. More specifically, a certain app is open.

“I found your tracking app,” Phil tells him. “And three are active. Really, your password was too easy.”

Phil chains Dan back to the chair as he takes the knife for himself, feels again for the trackers, and works at cutting them out: his groans and hisses of pain fill the silent atmosphere between them, and with each one, as he keeps his head down, Dan flinches.

It’s noticed.

“You know; I saw, from your footage of us, stuff like that,” Phil tells him, biting his lips momentarily as he forces the second tracker out. “You hurt me so many times, but you really never liked to. Why?”

Dan glances over to him, confused. “Why what?”

“Why did you continue to hurt me, when you hated it?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “I don’t know. I thought it was necessary.”

Phil grunts. “You were wrong.”

“Yeah,” Dan admits, with a heavy, rueful sigh. “I was wrong.”

Finally, as the last tracker is removed, Phil heaves a relieved sigh, and throws them over to Dan. “Deactivate them, smash them up - I don’t care what.” He’s briefly unchained from the chair just for that task.

And, once over (and after deleting the app from his phone), Phil lets out a great, satisfied laugh, and settles himself back at last.

“Wow! That wasn’t so hard then, was it?”

Dan frowns. “What do you mean?”

“The trackers! If you’d just taken them out when I asked you to, you could have avoided a lot of this.” Again, he laughs, as if all this were just a joke to him.

At that, Dan starts up. “You mean, this was all just for  _that_?!”

“Of course not. This was all punishment for your shitty behaviour, and it’s been deserved for a long time now. You never thought I’d try getting my own back one day, given the opportunity?” He leans forwards, takes the chain of the cuffs into his hands, and yanks Dan towards him. “I’ve been serious this whole time. Mess with me again, and you’ll end up back here, at my mercy.” He raises an eyebrow. “Got that?”

Dan gulps, but nods.

Phil smiles. “So: from now on, you’re  _my_ prisoner. For as long as I want, you’re never going to leave my sight. I don’t trust you; so I’m never letting you go.”

With those words, as much as terror rings through his body, Dan can’t help but be confused. “But… I thought…” He frowns. “I thought you didn’t want to see me again.”

Phil sighs and shakes his head. “I had to scare you, and hurt you - and didn’t it work?” He brings a hand to Dan’s head, wraps his fingers round the neck, and pulls their heads together. “No. You did one thing right with me: no matter what, I can’t help but want you.” Dan’s heart thumps excitedly in his chest. “I won’t be yours - but you’ll be mine.”

“I can do that!” Dan jumps up, elated, like a child. “I promise - I’ll behave.”

Phil chuckles in amusement. “How cute. I’m the only who can handle you - isn’t that right?  All you have to do…” he brings Dan’s lips almost against his own; “… is love me. And I’ll make sure of that.”

As Phil brings him in for a kiss, and Dan is embraced with the familiar goodness and comfort of Phil’s lips, he feels himself fall into his will, into his hold, and, with a fluttering heart, knows that this is more than he deserves.


End file.
